The Souls of Demons
by Pyxelle
Summary: Vader turns Luke to the Dark Side, but is horrified by the monster his son becomes. He defies the Sith, hoping to become the Jedi Anakin Skywalker once more, but can he save Luke from Darkness when he still fights a demon inside himself?
1. Default Chapter

**DISCLAIMER**: _I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters, worlds, or races. I am making no money from this work, nor do I claim ownership of anything other than the story. This work is purely for enjoyment. So, enjoy!_

**SPOILER ALERT! This takes elements from all 6 movies. Be forewarned if you have yet to see _Revenge of the Sith_ **

**Categories: **Action/Adventure/Sci-fi/Angst (AU)

**Primary Characters: **

_Anakin Skywalker/ Darth Vader _

_Luke Skywalker/ Dark!Luke_

_Princess Leia_

_Han Solo_

**The Souls of Demons **

_**By Pyxelle**_

**Chapter 1 **

**OoooOoooO**

"Anakin, you bring Luke in here this instant!"

Luke looked at his father with wide-eyed innocence, his hair dripping water in his eyes as the summer squall continued to pour down on them. "I think you're in trouble, Daddy."

Anakin had winced at Padme's angry voice, but now he glared at his four-year-old son. "Its just as much your fault as mine, young man. If I'm in trouble, _you're_ in trouble."

"_Anakin Skywalker!"_

"Coming!" Anakin held out his hand to Luke. Without a word the child handed over the tiny lightsaber he had been holding. Anakin scooped him up and began to run through the rain towards the house. One of the house droids immediately began to clean the water and mud they tracked in, but Anakin paid them no attention.

Padme stood in front of them, her hands planted firmly on her hips and her eyes stormier than the weather outside. Beside her, Leia imitated her mother's posture, although her gaze was directed at Luke rather than Anakin. Leia was fiercely protective of her twin – as he was of her. Finally Padme spoke.

"Just what do you have to say for yourself?" she demanded.

"What?" Anakin asked. "I told you I was taking Luke outside for practice."

Padme threw up her hands in exasperation. "For goodness' sake, Anakin, you're both soaked!" She stepped forward and took Luke out of Anakin's arms. The child was indeed shivering, but that didn't stop his protestations.

"I-I-I'm not that c-cold, Mom," he chattered, and Anakin felt a quick flash of guilt. "I like practicing with Daddy."

"And I like healthy younglings," Padme said, sending one last murderous look towards Anakin. "Come on, let's get you into dry clothes."

Anakin watched as Padme walked away without another word. Then he looked down at Leia. "She's really mad, isn't she?" he asked his daughter.

Leia nodded solemnly. "You thould have lithened, daddy." Her serious voice was somewhat lost in her lisp.

Anakin chuckled. "Yes, I 'thould' have. I better get cleaned up and apologize, huh?"

Leia nodded again.

"All right then, why don't you check on Luke and I'll go set things right with Mommy – does that sound good?"

"Thounds good, Daddy."

Anakin saw Padme walk past him to put Luke's wet clothes into the clothing receptacle. "Padme," he said, walking behind her and putting one hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I just lost track of time, and Luke was having so much fun…" He ran his hands through his hair. "He's so promising, Padme, and-"

"I don't want to hear it," Padme said, keeping her face away from him. "You killed me, you know. I'm not going to forgive that."

Anakin stepped back at her words. "What did you say?"

Her voice held a tightly controlled anger. "I said you could have killed him. I know that _you_ can ignore the elements, but your _son_ is four years old."

"He was fine," Anakin said shakily. That wasn't what he had heard – he knew it. _You killed me, you know._ "Naboo's summer storms are mild."

"Usually, Anakin. But this region's known for surprise hailstorms. And Luke was obviously cold. Do you even know what temperature it is out there?"

Anakin blinked. "No."

"It's nearly freezing, Anakin. A cold wind blew in from the east. You need to think about others once in a while."

Padme's anger seemed overwrought – and was it really that cold? For some reason, Anakin was sweating. "Padme, I'm sorry."

Padme sighed. "I know, Anakin. You just do things so impulsively, and sometimes the consequences never seem to cross your mind. I lost you because of that – Luke and Leia lost you because of that."

Anakin was burning now. His skin felt as if it was being scorched, but he pushed the phantom pain away and put his hands on her shoulders. "Padme, what are you talking about? You haven't lost me."

"But I did."

"I love you, Padme, and I'd never –"

His words were cut off in a gasp as Padme turned to face him. Her skin had paled, and her eyes were covered by a milky glaze of death. The simple gown she had been wearing had been replaced by dark funeral garb, and she clutched the pendant he had given her long ago in her hand, resting it over her heart. "But you did, Anakin. You believed that you could control the Dark side of the Force, that through it, you could save me. But it was through your betrayal that I died. This life we could have had, the children, the future that we could have created…you killed it all on that hellfire's planet before we ever had the chance. You destroyed me, and then you destroyed yourself…"

The walls of the house dissolved, and suddenly Anakin could see the lake of molten lava beyond them, and the burning in his arms intensified. _What was happening? _

He screamed hoarsely as he collapsed to the ground, his limbs giving way beneath him. "Padme!" He shrieked into the chaos around him.

The corpse-Padme's hair whirled about her in a dark halo as she knelt next to him. "Both our fates were sealed here, Anakin. I lost my love and you lost your soul. And now you would destroy our son."

Anakin's vocal cords were burning, and he couldn't respond. _I would never hurt him!_ he thought fiercely, and even as he thought it he knew it was a lie.

(_but I have I have and he is already lost) _

"What love I held for you has been destroyed as well, and now only hatred remains." Padme's milky eyes narrowed. "Your soul was yours to sell, but never Luke's. Any remnant of the man I married is dead now." She placed her hands on him, and he couldn't even scream in pain as her hands, her oh, so terribly cold hands grasped his burned flesh. "All that is left is to burn the body of the dead."

And she pushed him into the waiting hellfire.

**OoooOoooO**

Darth Vader didn't dream. His cybernetic body had long progressed past that. But from time to time, while resting in a semi-meditative state, his mind…wandered. Sometimes visions would result, sometimes glimpses of the present. Sometimes memories intruded, leaving a phantom taste of ashes with him, though he had put even the act of eating behind him and had not tasted food in decades. But never had a memory, a fantasy, a…a _dream_ affected him in such a way. He felt unnerved, and somehow…soiled.

The hiss of the machinery was the only noise as the walls of his

_(prison) _

chamber opened, and he strode out of the room oblivious to the stormtroopers stationed at the entrance. The rebellion still was strong, despite its devastating loss, and it had been Darth Eivel's idea to post extra guards.

"Han and Leia are persistent…and they know me," he had said. "Until we can secure them, at the very least, any and all precautions should be taken."

The Emperor had fully agreed.

Fluctuations in the Force whirled around his senses, and he knew that his Master was training his new apprentice. The Dark Side of the Force was cold, the distant oscillations in it feeling as if icy feathers were stroking his mind. He let those vibrations guide him towards the chamber where the sense was coming from. There was no need to do so, as Vader knew the layout of the Deathstar better than anyone other than perhaps his Master, but he had become so attuned to the mind of the Emperor that his body was moving before he could even consciously think of it. Other sensations pummeled his mind as he drew closer, clumsier and with less finesse, but with a strength behind him that awed even him. The Force was strong with this young apprentice.

That was another new thing. The Sith had forever numbered only two, a master and an apprentice. For the first time there were three, and though Vader could no longer rightfully be called an apprentice, the change was strange to him. It was as if he was witnessing the birth of a new Jedi Order, but one created without the laws and restrictions placed upon it's knights that had held the Jedi in check. A Dark Jedi Order that glorified passion, and anger, and harnessing the emotional power beyond that to become a force of deadly power. Vader felt a certain amount of satisfaction about that, for wasn't it what he and the Emperor would need to solidify their reign forever? An Order of the Sith would be the very thing that could hold the galaxy and destroy the rebellion completely. So of course he felt satisfaction…

But for some reason, at this moment, it felt almost empty.

Two stormtroopers saluted as he passed through them to the Emperor's chamber. He paid them no heed. They had faded into the background as they always did, as if they were droids instead of living beings. The doors _whooshed_ shut behind him, and he entered into a room that showcased a battle between two lightning fast combatants before him.

Vader stood to one side, watching the flashing red lightsabers for several minutes. Neither the Emperor nor Darth Eivel paid him any attention. Being in the room, despite the frenetic activity between the two combatants, calmed him. The Force was strong in here, both of them drawing deeply upon the Dark Side to aid them in their battle. It was familiar to Vader, and a cold comfort came with it. The power they wielded was formidable, and that was what he had always sought, wasn't it?

The battle culminated in a whizzing flurry of bloody light as the two Sith danced around the balcony of the chamber. Eivel made a fatal mistake, a mistake so small that Vader was only sure he had seen it because the Emperor's lightsaber was suddenly at the young man's throat. For a moment it looked as if Emperor Palpatine was going to spear his new apprentice, but then he rasped a laugh and the red saber disappeared. Darth Eivel lay on the floor, panting, releasing his own lightsaber only a moment later.

"Admirable effort, my young apprentice," the Emperor said, walking away slowly. Now that he had released the Force, he once again was the apparent vision of frailty. "But still you hold back. You were angry with me, were you not?"

Darth Eivel climbed to his feet slowly, pushing his sweat-drenched blonde hair out of his eyes. "Yes."

"But you didn't give into that anger, you held it back. Forget what that green-skinned martyr tried to teach you. The denial of emotions was a leash the Jedi put on their students to limit them, so that the power they could control would forever be crippled. Feed that anger – relish in it." The Emperor's eyes gleamed red. "Let it _be_ you."

Eivel nodded curtly. "Yes, Master."

Finally the Emperor seemed to notice Vader. "Ah, Lord Vader. Join us. My young apprentice has been working hard today."

"So I see." Vader said, inclining his head towards the Emperor. "You summoned me, Master?"

"Yes…yes." The Emperor sat and stared through his cowled robe, not looking at Darth Eivel or Darth Vader but rather straight ahead at something neither of them could see. "It has been nearly a year since the Rebellion's final ill-fated attempt. Most of their leaders were scattered, as you know, and have been very difficult to find. We seem to have had a stroke of luck, however."

"We have?" Vader asked. "What would that be, my Master?"

"A disturbance in the Force," the Emperor said, his eyes far away. "Near the planet of Naboo. We believed it might have had something to do with your wayward daughter, Lord Vader."

"My daughter?" Vader had sensed nothing, and that troubled him. "I felt no such disturbance."

"Darth Eivel was the instrument of this information, and follow up reports only confirm what he has told me. It seems your daughter has a sentimental streak, and she wanted to go to her newly rediscovered mother's home planet – for her wedding."

(_I love you…marry me…I won't let you die…) _

Vader had to push the intruding memory of a long-dead voice from his head. It was the dream, his first in years, which had him so off balance. "Her wedding?"

"Han Solo and Leia became quite close while fighting together in the rebellion. It seems that they have decided to formalize that arrangement," Darth Eivel said. "I have to say that I'm not all that surprised."

"I want you to go to Naboo and track her, Lord Vader. If she is there, apprehend her, if not, find where she is going. She must be taken alive."

"Master!" Darth Eivel protested suddenly. "I know her better than anyone. Let me go."

"No, my young apprentice." The Emperor held one hand up to stop him. "You have learned quickly, but there are ties the Force creates that you do not yet understand. Right now, Lord Vader is better suited to this duty than you are. I give this task to him."

"I will obey, my Master." The words came unbidden to Vader's mouth, and he bowed slightly towards the Emperor.

"But, Master, I _will_ ensure that she's brought to you alive –"

"Hush!" The Emperor held up one hand and his apprentice silenced immediately. Emperor Palpatine suddenly laughed. "Lord Eivel, I sense the rage finally loose in you. Splendid! Don't waste it, harness it…" he turned his burning eyes to Vader. "Lord Vader, would you care to take over the training? I find I would like to watch my young protégé for a time."

"Of course, my Master," Vader said, drawing his own lightsaber and turning to the young Sith. "Darth Eivel, do you feel ready for another match…or do you need a time to rest?"

"No, I'm quite ready, father." Darth Eivel said, his signature Skywalker arrogance showing through as he raised his red lightsaber. "And I'm perfectly happy to show you just what you will suffer if you harm my sister."

"Very well, _son._" Vader swung his saber effortlessly. The two circled each other several times, neither making a move towards the other, both of them just holding their weapons out in an offensive stance. Then the dance began.

Eivel struck first, a thrust that Vader easily parried. Their lightsabers flashed, bleeding a crimson light over their bodies and spilling out across the chamber floors. Darth Eivel was immediately on the offensive, but Vader had no difficulty in sidestepping or intercepting his attacks. Behind them, the Emperor cackled as he watched their battle.

"I believe the Emperor may have been going too easy on you, apprentice," Vader taunted as they ceased their lightsabers' whirlwinds for a moment. "You seem to be having a bit of difficulty."

"He was only warming me up." A sharp thrust narrowly missed Vader's right arm, and talking ceased as Vader parried a few more swings. "I think I'm holding my own."

A silent signal from the Emperor told Vader that now was the time to curb the young man's arrogance. In an instant Darth Vader burst into the offensive, and instead of advancing Darth Eivel was suddenly backtracking rapidly, his lightsaber barely being able to block the deadly blows he found himself facing. He struck the wall sharply, and Vader's lightsaber was instantly at his chest. "It appears as if you didn't 'warm up' quite enough…_Luke." _

A primal scream of rage tore from his son's throat and suddenly it was Vader who was backing up from the furious attack. He parried desperately, the pure hatred in the young man's eyes burning into him.

"_I am not Luke Skywalker!_" the youngSith apprentice screamed at him, and although that had been his son's name for nearly all of his life, Vader could sense the absolute truth of Darth Eivel's words. "_Luke Skywalker is DEAD!" _

Eivel swung his lightsaber in low, and Vader reacted too quickly to realize that the true blow was the young man's fist plowing into his forearm. His mechanical hand spasmed at the impact, and Vader's lightsaber slipped from his grasp. The red blade flickered out it struck the ground.

Darth Vader could suddenly feel the heat of his son's lightsaber pressed near his neck.

"I am not Luke Skywalker," Darth Eivel hissed at him through his son's lips. "He is as dead as Anakin is."

"Lord Eivel!" Emperor Palpatine said sharply. "Release him!"

Eivel glared at Vader for a moment, and then the dark fury in his eyes flickered out as he retracted his lightsaber. "Yes, Master," he said between clenched teeth.

"Lord Vader, you will leave at once. A ship has been prepared." The Emperor said tightly. "Even this little diversion was a luxury we could ill afford. But…it _was_ entertaining."

"Yes, Master." Vader turned, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Good luck, Lord Vader," Darth Eivel said softly, "and I truly do hope that you encounter no undue resistance. I look forward to being reunited with my sister, and I sincerely hope that nothing…_unfortunate_ befalls her."

"As do I," Vader said. A part of him suddenly wanted to comfort his son, the desire strange in Vader's mind, but there was no room for compassion in the young man's demeanor. "I am sure you will work hard with your training." He glanced quickly at the Emperor. "Our Master will see to that."

"Goodbye…father."

Vader said no goodbyes. He simply turned on his heels and walked away, letting the Dark Side of the Force permeate him, feeling its icy burn wash away the strange emotions he had been unable to release since he had risen from his earlier dreaming.

It was the only way he could force himself to walk away from the hollow shell he had made of his son.

**End of Chapter 1 **

_Yes, I know that this is bringing up a lot of questions. Luke's fall and other discrepancies with the movies will be explained through flashbacks and memories. As to the other members of the SW universe, very many will be making appearances, so just keep reading!_

**And please, please review…I am a total review junkie!**


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters, worlds, or races. I am making no money from this work, nor do I claim ownership of anything other than the story. This work is purely for enjoyment. So, enjoy!

**SPOILER ALERT! This takes elements from all 6 movies. Be forewarned if you have yet to see Revenge of the Sith **

**Categories: **Action/Adventure/Sci-fi/Angst

**Primary Characters: **

_Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader _

_Luke Skywalker/Dark! Luke_ _Princess Leia_

_Han Solo_

**The Souls of Demons**

**Chapter 2 **

**_By Pyxelle _**

A soft sobbing from the veranda was what woke him, but it was the absence of his newly wedded wife that drove Han from their bed. He followed the anguished sound, finding her where he knew she would be, alone, sitting on a wrought iron chair beside the lake. Her face was hidden in her hands.

"You know, most brides don't cry all through their honeymoon," he chided gently, coming up behind her. "Unless they're crying out because of…well, I'd better not finish that thought. I know how good you are with a blaster."

His joke earned only the faintest of smiles from Leia. "I'm sorry, Han. I didn't mean to wake you."

Han wrapped his arms around his wife. "I know, Leia. It's all right."

For the last few nights, that had been enough to comfort his beautiful wife, but tonight she shrugged his hands from her angrily. "No, it's not all right. This was all a mistake."

"Our wedding?" Han couldn't keep the shock from his voice, but the stricken look on Leia's face assured him that was not at all what she had meant.

"Oh, God, no, Han…" she clasped his hand, her fingers still wet from her tears. "Not ever that. I just meant coming here…to Naboo. I thought it would bring some closure, but it hasn't…all it's done is make my heart ache for what I've lost…and what I never had."

"Leia…"

"Did you know that Anakin and Padme got married right here on this very spot?" Leia said suddenly, and Han shook his head mutely. He hadn't known. "They did. I've been going through the security holos regarding Senator Amidala. They recorded everything, did you know that? I have to wonder how anyone slept knowing that they were under nearly constant surveillance. But even though they kept their marriage secret right until the end, a record was made. My mother wore a gossamer gown of lace…my father looked so young, so pure, so strong…so like Luke. They were so in love. Not even the cold reproductions of a holo could hide that."

A tear slid down Leia's cheek. "Anakin stood on this very spot and pledged his undying love to her…and then he killed her. He fell to the Dark Side and he destroyed the woman he loved." Her hand clenched…and beside them, a vase full of violet Tatooine lilies exploded. "In an instant. He destroyed everything."

Han resisted the urge to step back from the anger and coldness in Leia's voice. This was not the first time something like this had happened. "Leia…try to stay calm. Remember what Lu…what you were taught. Don't let it control you."

Leia laughed then, a harsh laugh that held no mirth. "Luke didn't teach me anything, Han, and you know it. I can't control what's happening to me, and I can't focus it…and the one person who _could_ teach me has fallen into darkness. How long is it before I do the same? How long before I become the evil I've fought against since I could pick up a blaster?_ How long before I, too, betray the ones I love?"_

"That's not going to happen!" Han told her harshly, spinning her around a little too roughly. Leia refused to meet his eyes. "You are _not_ destined to follow Anakin or Luke. The Skywalker line is _not_ corrupted, if only because _you_ escaped it. Leia, I love you. We _will_ get through this together…I promise you."

Leia finally looked up at him. "Don't promise," she whispered. "Anakin made too many promises…and they were his undoing."

"Leia." Han didn't know what to say, so he just crushed her to his chest tightly. He had never expected to get married – hell, he had never expected to have any sort of long-term relationship. He had been a rogue, a free spirit that couldn't be tied to another… but since he had met the headstrong princess, everything had changed. _He_ had changed.

It still didn't make him any better at knowing how to comfort his wife. He couldn't, in all honesty, tell her that everything was going to be all right. It wasn't. Right up until the end, he had believed that they would prevail, as if the Force itself (though he didn't believe in it, of course) had been telling them that the Empire's reign was over. But that belief had evaporated with Luke's turn to the Dark Side. Luke had been like a brother to him, complete with taunts, fights, and rivalry. Han sometimes felt as if he couldn't breathe when he thought of Luke's betrayal. He couldn't bear it if he lost Leia, too. "You won't fall. I won't let you."

"Oh, Han." Leia finally let the real tears fall, and for several minutes all Han could do was hold his wife as she cried. "How will I know? I can't stop from touching it, no matter how I try…and without training, how can I tell the Dark Side from the Light? How can I evade the evil that swallowed my father…and my brother?"

"I don't know, Leia, but you will," Han assured her, stroking her glorious sable hair. "You will."

**OoooOoooO **

_"You were the Chosen One!" Obi-Wan screamed, his voice breaking with the strength of the emotion it carried. "It was said you were to destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the force, not leave it in darkness!" _

_Anakin screamed in rage. It was easier to lose himself in his fury that to allow the pain in Obi-Wan's voice to touch his soul. "I hate you!" he roared in a voice that was barely human._

_"You were my brother, Anakin." Obi-Wan's tortured face made Anakin's heart wrench for the briefest of moments before the rage flooded him once more. "I loved you."  
Anakin screamed again in defiance. Obi-Wan watched him, tears streaming down his face as the fire leapt from the lake of lava and the cloth of his garments started to blaze. The fire spread in an instant, and began to burn Anakin's flesh while at the same time he could feel the hair on his head dissolve into flames. The pain was incredible, and a sickening stench filled Anakin's nostrils even as his lungs were scorched away._

_"Luke was like my own son, Anakin." Obi-Wan knelt next to him, his weary eyes searching as if to somehow find the young Jedi Knight in the shattered and charred creature before him. "I watched over him, saw to his training…did the things you should have done, my brother." Obi-Wan's voice broke again. "I lost both my brother and my son because of your betrayal, Anakin."_

This isn't what happened!_ Anakin's mind fought to say._ Obi-Wan betrayed _me!_ He left me to die! He didn't even have the mercy to end my life cleanly!

_"Now I have to finish what I swore to do." Obi-Wan stood, drawing his lightsaber. The blue blade ignited, its pure glow seeming to envelope the Jedi Master in a bright protective aura. _

Good,_ Anakin thought desperately through the pain. _End it, please, oh, end it…

_But Obi-Wan turned away from him. Higher up the slope Luke Skywalker stood, the bloody glow of his lightsaber almost lost in the flames around him. Luke's eyes burned with the cold fire of the Dark Side. _

_"The Skywalker legacy of evil must end, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his voice heavy with regret. He spun, his lightsaber humming ominiously, and with one lightning stroke struck Luke's head from his body. _

_"NO!" Anakin shrieked and dug his mechanical fingers into the crumbling rock as he tried to pull himself towards the fallen body of his son. "Luke!"_

_Obi-Wan looked down at him, a strange mixture of pity, revulsion, and sorrow etched into his features. "Luke has been dead a long time now, Lord Vader," he said. "Don't you remember? You're the one who destroyed him." _

_Anakin could do nothing as Obi-Wan turned his back to him and begun to walk away. His voice trailed behind him. "The Skywalker evil _must_ die. There is only one thing left to do that will ensure that forever." _

_Leia! _

_"You…will…not…harm her!" Anakin screamed with the last of his strength, drew deeply on the Dark Side…and it slipped from his grasp. _

_"She must die," Obi-Wan said, turning back to him briefly. There was a cold resolve in his face, but it carried an immense grief with it. "It is the only way to save her from your terrible legacy." _

_And all Anakin could do was scream helplessly as Obi-Wan walked past the body of his slain son, intent on killing his only remaining child. His daughter. _

_**LEIA! **_

**OoooOoooO**

"Lord Vader?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"We have established orbit around Naboo."

"Very good, Captain." Vader stepped down from the observation deck. "Prepare my shuttle."

"Yes, Lord Vader." The Captain began shouting orders to the officers around him.

The dreams were continuing, and Vader found them haunting his waking thoughts more and more. What was their purpose? He had made a sort of grim resolution with what he had done, and what he had become. He had brought peace to the galaxy, despite the Rebellion. A peace enforced by fear, but peace nonetheless. The rebellion was insignificant next to the tens of thousands of star systems loyal to the Empire. He had learned that a ruler of such a vast holding could not afford to be concerned with individual justice, but rather had to be aware of a larger view. The end would justify the means – however brutal they might seem.

General Torren fell into step beside him. "If you would excuse me for saying so, Princess Leia made a grave error in coming here, Lord Vader. It's not like her to be so foolish. Naboo has been a stronghold of the Empire since its inception. It was Emperor Palpatine's home planet, after all."

"I am aware of that, general," Vader said, turning into the shuttle bay.

"Then forgive me, but I have to suspect that it could be a trap."

"It is no trap," Vader told him firmly.

"At least allow me to send a bodyguard of stormtroopers with you, Lord Vader. This plan of yours to go to the surface alone is foolhardy."

Vader stopped and turned to the general slowly. He said nothing, but rather just stared at him, letting his silence speak for him.

The general began to squirm. "I am not suggesting that you're unable to handle this yourself, Lord Vader, but-"

"I certainly hope not," Vader said, resuming his brisk pace. He could hear General Torren's sigh of relief. "This is something I must do alone. It is of no concern to you or your troops."

"Yes, Lord Vader."

**OoooOoooO**

The chirping noise of the communication device interrupted their breakfast. They were eating on the veranda when the device signaled, not far from the spot where Han had found Leia weeping the previous night.

"I'll get it," Leia said, putting aside her glass of Pummbu juice before disappearing into the house.

Han watched her go. Against his will, his eyes flickered back to the edge of the veranda. Leia had shown him the holo last night, after her weeping had ceased, and it had assuredly been the very same place he was staring at. The recording still sent a profound disturbance throughout Han. He hadn't known Leia's father had been so very young when he had betrayed the Jedi. Anakin Skywalker had barely been a grown man at all.

Even more disturbing was the way he could see Leia's features indelibly ghosted on the young Jedi's face. Mentally he had figured it out – Vader was only around forty-seven. Until last night the evil Sith lord had seemed ageless, as if he existed outside of time and space, and Han though he had preferred it that way. Knowing that Vader was merely a small span of years older than himself caused a feeling of unreality to rear its head within him. It humanized Vader, somehow, and that was something he couldn't have – Han couldn't afford to be weak when it came to Leia's fallen family.

"Han, we've got to get out of here," Leia said, running in from the house. In her arms was the single storage case they had brought with them. "Vader's found us. His shuttle was sighted entering Naboo's atmosphere."

Han was on his feet in a flash. They had been prepared for this. Naboo was an Imperial System, after all, and the only way he and Leia had managed to spend their short amount of time here was to take their journey in utmost secrecy. The other leaders of the Alliance would never have allowed them to come here. But Leia's wish to create some sort of closure within herself had been strong, and Han had reluctantly agreed to her wishes.

If Vader found them here, however, there would be no escape, and no rescue. No one in the Alliance knew where they were – except Chewbacca and Lando. The _Millennium Falcon_ was hidden on one of Naboo's moons, with Chewbacca ready at the helm and Lando on constant alert in the event that Han and Leia were discovered. But if Darth Vader was here, then so most likely were other Imperial Forces, and while Han was fiercely proud of his ship he didn't really feel like testing her in a suicide race with a Star Destroyer.

"Get in." Han motioned to the small transport ship resting just outside the dilapidated house. They would have to abandon the shuttle on the moon, but that was all right. They had planned on doing that anyways.

"He's close, Han." There was panic in Leia's voice as she began warming up the landing thrusters. She slid into the co-pilot's chair and released the controls to him. "I can feel him. Somehow, I can sense his presence."

Han tried not to think about the implications of that statement. "We won't be near him for long. Let's get to the _Falcon_ and blow this mudball."

They sped off into the waiting sky.

**OoooOoooO**

Vader stepped off the shuttle slowly. He had not set foot on Naboo since he had joined Emperor Palpatine, and now that he was here the memories that assaulted him were so strong they were almost a physical force. He had been happy here, happy and in love. Here he had found the other half of his soul.

_You sold your soul_, a phantom Padme whispered in his ear.

He pushed the remnant of the dream away with irritation. The dreams were plaguing him, distracting him, and he had a duty to his Master to perform. He couldn't afford to allow long-dead memories to affect him. They never had before, so why now? He had to find his daughter. Leia _would_ join them.

Leia was not here…but she had been. He could still sense her lingering presence. It had been recent, perhaps only minutes. If he immediately left the surface, perhaps he could apprehend her before she even left the atmosphere.

But to his surprise, Darth Vader found he couldn't leave.

It almost felt as if he were being drawn into the house against his will. It had been abandoned after Padme's death, and not well maintained afterwards. The once-beautiful gardens were over-grown and choked with weeds, while the darkened windows stared blankly at him like the empty sockets of a half-buried skull. The sparkle of life and laughter he remembered had fled. It had become a house of the dead.

Somehow, it still called to him, and he felt pulled into its rooms as if walking in a dream. Leia's little touches could easily be seen – clean bedding in the bedroom, a soft blue Danthian wool blanket to cover the musty couch, the remains of a breakfast not yet finished…but it was Padme who really lingered here, as if her very spirit had been burned into the foundations of the one place they had been truly happy.

It was a disquieting feeling.

He didn't like it. Vader had let go of the last ghosts of his past long ago. The naïve and love-struck young man he had once been had been burned away in fire and pain. He found it hard to even think of himself as a man anymore.

Darth Vader was more than a man. He had transcended humanity.

Then why did Padme's voice still linger in these rooms?

A hologram generator caught his attention as he walked across the living quarters. Again, he tried to push the dream phantoms away, and Vader switched the small, portable generator to "on", curious to see what information Leia had carelessly left behind. Perhaps it would give some clue to her plans. He was tiring of this chase.

The image that appeared, however, drove all thoughts of Leia from his mind.

"Anakin Skywalker, do take this woman as your wife, claim her as your soulmate, and pledge yourself to protect, honor, and cherish her, for all the rest of your days?"

The flickering image of his younger self smiled gently down at Padme. She looked back up at him, her face trusting and so full of love. He heard himself speak, a long-lost innocence in a voice he had never thought to hear again.

"I do so pledge myself to her, to honor and protect her, to cherish and love her, until the will of the Force takes me from this mortal existence."

"And do you, Padme Naberrie Amidala, take –"

A wave of familiar anger struck him, and Vader hurled the holo-generator suddenly against the wall. It shattered, and Padme's face flickered out of existence. As soon as it did, Vader wished irrationally that he could take the action back. He had not beheld her image since the day Padme had died.

"That won't stop the pain, you realize," said a familiar voice behind him. In an instant Vader drew his lightsaber, swinging it in down low and spinning to face the phantom voice.

Obi-Wan Kenobi stood there, indistinct and ghostly. "You do also realize that you can't harm me, don't you?"

"Obi-Wan." Vader didn't retract his blade. His former mentor just disregarded it.

"Oh, so you do remember me," Obi-Wan said with a trace of sarcasm. He appeared as he had during the time Anakin Skywalker had been his padawan and not as the almost unrecognizable old man Vader had cut down on the Deathstar. "I'm glad to see you have not stricken me completely from your mind."

"What do you want?" Vader demanded, ignoring the ghostly Jedi's words.

Obi-Wan didn't answer immediately. Instead, he circled the shattered remains of the holo generator and clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Very messy, Anakin," he said in the same tone of voice he had used when scolding his apprentice so many years ago. "Tell me – do you really have to destroy everything you touch, or did you simply want to test the craftsmanship of this fine device? If so, I would say your methods are a bit harsh."

"You can dispense with the friendly banter, Obi-Wan," Vader said darkly. "I have no time for it."

Any humor there was fled from Obi-Wan's face. "No, I suppose you don't. After all, you have to destroy the very last remnants of Padme, don't you? You've already damned her son. Why not her daughter?"

Vader screamed in rage and swung his lightsaber. It passed through the ghost of the Jedi as if through smoke, causing only the barest of flickers.

Obi-Wan arched one eyebrow. "Really, Anakin, did you think that would do anything?"

"I am not Anakin, _old man_." Vader retracted his lightsaber. He would not allow Obi-Wan's transparent attempt to dredge up the memories of his former master to succeed in baiting him. Vader turned from the dead Jedi, intent upon leaving. He _would_ find his wayward daughter.

"You could be, you know." Obi-Wan's softly spoken words stopped Vader. "Anakin still lives inside you. Somewhere behind the mask and the machinery, the man Padme loved still exists. You know this is true, Anakin."

"You are naïve and foolish," Vader said forcefully, drawing on the Dark Side deeply to steady the unexpected feelings Obi-Wan was resurrecting. It fed his resolve. "She betrayed me. I sacrificed everything for her, and she betrayed me."

"Search your feelings, Anakin!" Obi-Wan demanded. "A part of you knows that is not true – a part of you has _always_ known. _You_ betrayed her. She was loyal to you until the end. Even her last breath was used while begging me to save you. She couldn't believe that the man she had loved so deeply could become so wholly evil. Padme believed in you. It was you who didn't believe in _her._"

"No!" Vader roared. "She refused me. I wanted to give her the galaxy, and she denied me! I wanted to save her, and she forced me to destroy her!"

"Anakin, she wouldn't have needed saving if you hadn't fallen to the Dark Side!" Obi-Wan's voice was tortured. "Please, you must see that! The visions you had of Padme's death were visions of what you would do to her! If you hadn't allowed the Emperor to twist your mind, she would have been safe. _You_ betrayed her by abandoning your vows and your conscience. _You_ denied her memory by handing Luke over to the Emperor. And now you would further dishonor her by turning Leia into a monster as well!"

"_NO!"_ Vader knew he could not harm the phantom Jedi, but his fury needed an outlet, and he threw his lightsaber at the window with such force that it shattered. Emotions that he had not felt in years swelled within him, and he tried to take refuge in the rage Obi-Wan was inspiring. "You're wrong! She betrayed me! I would have given her everything! _I would have given her the universe!"_

Obi-Wan looked at him sadly. "Anakin, remember her as she was and not as what you have recreated her as. Padme never wanted the universe. She never wanted to rule the galaxy. All she wanted…was you."

"She had me! I never would have hurt her if she hadn't turned away from me. _You_ turned her against me! I have _created_ the Empire that brought order to the galaxy. I have brought swift justice to those who would destroy that order. And it was all to protect her, to honor my vow to her. All of it!"

"Anakin, you've been living a lie for too many years," Obi-Wan eyes regarded him with something akin to pity, "…and deep down, inside the soul of the man you've almost buried, you know it to be true."

But he didn't! Of course he didn't, because to believe that was to accept the fact that he had destroyed himself and his son for nothing…

_Destroyed himself and his son._

As soon as the thought entered his mind he felt the truth of it. The very fact that he could conceive of the notion validated its existence. Darth Vader had watched his son lose his soul a little more day by day, and he had encouraged it, had reveled in it. He had felt _satisfaction_ in the demon he had created out of his and Padme's love. What greater betrayal of Padme's sweet soul could there be?

And now he was going to do the same to his daughter.

_That _was what the dreams were about. The single theme that connected them was that it had been _him_ who had betrayed those he loved. It had been _his_ actions that led to Padme's death. And it had been _him_ who had delivered Luke Skywalker to the Emperor…and thus created Darth Eivel.

That last was what really solidified the truth of his actions. He could justify his own damnation, could maintain he had done it because of the betrayal of the people who had claimed to love him…but the destruction of Luke Skywalker, his only son, he could blame on no one but himself.

With a cry and barely aware he was going to do it, Darth Vader released the Force.

A flood of anguish overwhelmed him as he thrust aside his hatred and rage, so intense that it drove Vader to his knees. He screamed again, only this time in a sorrow so terrible it threatened to devour him. If he could have wept, he would have. Certainly his very soul was weeping.

Obi-Wan knelt next to him. "It's not too late, Anakin. You can still honor your vows to Padme. You can still save Leia…and bring Luke back from the Dark Side."

"It's not possible," Vader whispered. "It's been too long. I can't."

"Can't?" Obi-Wan smiled gently. "You're the Chosen One, Anakin. And I remember you arguing more that once that _nothing_ is impossible."

Vader looked at his old master with a strangely pale defiance. _It isn't possible_, he meant to say, _remember Yoda's teachings._ _Once you succumb to the Dark side, forever will it dominate your path._

But those were not the words he heard himself utter. What he heard himself say was, "I don't know how."

"Anakin, I must warn you - should you choose to redeem yourself, your journey out of darkness will not be an easy one." Obi-Wan was grave. "I will help you all I can, but I am limited in what I can do. I _can_ tell you this, my lost brother, that in order to begin, you must leave Darth Vader behind." Obi-Wan's ghostly hand traced the line of Vader's helmet almost gently. "You must free yourself from the trappings of the Emperor."

"I will die!" Vader protested roughly, a slow anger kindling in him. He had reveled in such passions for so long that he had very little of the emotional control he had once learned as a Jedi. Was this some trickery of Obi-Wan's to try and destroy him? "I cannot survive on my own – _you_ saw to that!"

"Your dependence upon that _thing_ was the choice of the Emperor, not of mine." Obi-Wan said calmly, as if Vader's anger did not touch him. "It was one more way to take your humanity away from you. Did you never wonder _why _he condemned you to that suit? There were other options then, and more now that were not available twenty years ago. It was another way to seal you to him. You _must_ regain your humanity if you wish to save yourself…and your son."

Another shape flickered into life beside Obi-Wan.

"Master Qui-Gon." Vader said strengthlessly.

"Listen to Obi-Wan, Anakin," Qui-Gon said, his face as serene as it had always been. He looked at Vader with the same calm patience that he had regarded a nine-year old Tatooine slave with years ago, and the same kindness rested in his eyes – as if he still saw the same innocent, selfless boy Vader had been instead of the half-human monster he had become. "Remember what I taught you of the Living Force. If anyone can make the journey out of darkness, it _is_ you."

"You _are_ the Chosen One, Anakin," Obi-Wan said forcefully. "And it is finally time you accept your _true_ destiny."

The Sith Lord shook his head angrily. "No. I cannot! I made my choices, and no ghost is going to be able to change that. You've come too late, Obi-Wan. Anakin Skywalker _is_ dead. There's no point in trying to resurrect him anymore. It can't be done."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said gently, "if that were true, I could not be here. You still touch the Light side of the Force. If evil had fully consumed you, the luminous beings we all truly are would be forever lost to you. The fact that I can reach you proves that Anakin yet lives. All you have to do is _accept_ him."

Vader fought an internal battle that far outmatched any he had combated before. Could he become the Jedi he had aspired to be once again? Could he set aside the power of the Dark Side, renounce his allegiance to the Sith and to the Emperor, and redeem his soul?_ Could_ a demon's soul be saved? Was it possible?

And did he even have the strength to try?

_Anything is possible, Anakin my love,_ Padme's phantom voice whispered to him again, and this time he did not push it away. _Anything is possible if you are willing to fight for it. _

_Do, or do not._ Master Yoda's teaching rose from the murky depths of his mind. _There is no try. _

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon watched him, their eyes calm and patient, and for the first time since the cataclysmic battle that had left Vader mutilated and forever scarred, he looked at his former Master without hatred. Even now he could feel the memories of their relationship swirling in his head, the dark pall he had cast over them lifting. Obi-Wan had been harsh, and yes, he had been strict…but he had also been kind. His actions had been out of love. Obi-Wan Kenobi had been both father and brother to Anakin Skywalker, and they had shared a bond that had surpassed both.

What did Vader have now? Power, yes, but this power leashed him to the Emperor. All the power in the galaxy wouldn't compensate for the shackles he had allowed Darth Sidious to put on him. He had been a child of destiny.

And he had handed that destiny to a man who had used it to destroy hope in the galaxy.

Darth Vader sobbed once, a sound as alien as the sorrow he felt was. He shifted, facing Obi-Wan on one knee, and bowed his head. He would honor his long-forgotten vows. _That_ was what the dreams had been telling him. _That_ was what he had really come here for, wasn't it? Not to find Leia, but to rediscover Padme…and himself.

"I ask for your guidance, Master," Anakin Skywalker said in a voice thick with tears he could not shed. "What must I do?"

**End of Part 2 **

**I hope people are enjoying this, and if you are, don't forget to review!**

**Pyxelle **


	3. Chapter 3

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters, worlds, or races. I am making no money from this work, nor do I claim ownership of anything other than the story. This work is purely for enjoyment. So, enjoy!_

**SPOILER ALERT! This takes elements from all 6 movies. Be forewarned if you have yet to see _Revenge of the Sith_ **

**Categories: **Action/Adventure/Sci-fi/Angst

**Primary Characters: **

_Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader _

_Luke Skywalker/Dark! Luke_

_Princess Leia_

_Han Solo_

**The Souls of Demons **

_**By Pyxelle**_

**Chapter 3 **

"Emperor Palpatine." General Torren said through the holographic communication device. Even through the electronic reproduction, his face was tight with fear. "I…I regret to inform you that we have lost contact with Lord Vader's shuttle."

"What?" the Emperor hissed.

"Was he attacked?" Darth Eivel asked beside the wizened emperor. His voice was sharp.

"There was no evidence of an attack, Lord Eivel. But we have had no contact with him for over forty-eight hours now, and scans of the system show no sign of his shuttle." The General hesitated. "He insisted on going to the surface alone, your Highness. It is possible that he was captured."

"Lord Vader would not allow himself to be captured, General," the Emperor snapped. "Continue your search. I will check on your progress later…personally."

The hologram flickered and died. Eivel shook his head. "I sense something is amiss, Master. I can't feel Lord Vader at all. Even his death should have caused a ripple in the Force – but it's as if he's disappeared. I can't explain it."

"I agree, Lord Eivel." The Emperor regarded him with eyes that blazed red from the power of the Dark Side. "The time has come for you to prove your skills, my young apprentice. You must seek out Lord Vader and return with him. I must know the truth of this."

Lord Eivel bowed deeply, a tight, satisfied smile on his face. "I am ready, my Master. I will not fail you."

**OoooOoooO**

"I can't believe it," Anakin whispered, flexing his fingers in awe. It was the first time he had felt the sensation of air against his palm in over two decades. "It's incredible."

"Thank you, Master Skywalker," the Jenuiite medic bowed its opalescent head deeply. "We are most pleased you are satisfied with the results."

Anakin looked up at the medic from the medical bed he was still lying on. "How long was I under?"

"Three months."

Anakin stared at the medic incredulously. Had he really been at the Jenuiite Genetic Center for that long? It couldn't be possible! "Were there complications?"

"Not exactly," the Jenuiite continued. "The damage to your body was extensive, Master Skywalker, and even the organic systems that still had partial functionality were dependent upon cybernetics. If I do say so myself, we have never faced such a challenge in genetic reconstruction."

"Three months." Anakin's voice was soft. "I've lost another three months of my life…"

"We did warn you about the risks, remember, and that included an unpredictable recovery time."

"Yes, you did warn me…and I have not forgotten _any_ of the risks." That was true enough. There was a reason hyper-accelerated genetic reconstruction was illegal. Too many things could go horribly wrong. Even the Emperor had deemed it too dangerous to be available to the public. "Speaking of…" he didn't really want to ask. "How did the post-procedure tests come out?"

"We are very happy to tell you that we found no genetic abnormalities caused by the reconstruction process, major or minor. Neural tissue is stable. We found no inconsistencies in the brain scan taken after the procedure from the one before." The Jenuiite shook his head slowly. "Quite frankly, I was amazed. The odds of having such a complete success in a case like yours, where not only did we have to recreate almost sixty percent of your cells but also had to do it from tissue twenty years after the damage occurred…well, they're literally astronomical."

Anakin took a deep breath in relief…and surprised himself by releasing it in a laugh. He had not felt this free in years. Goosebumps tickled his skin, another sensation nearly forgotten. "A mirror," he asked suddenly, pushing himself up so he was sitting. The goosebumps traveled along his skin to prickle his back. It was a wonderful feeling. "Do you have one?"

The Jenuiite smiled indulgently at him. "Yes, of course." He waved one graceful chalk-white hand. "It is right behind you."

Anakin turned around, and his breath caught in his throat. His heartbeat, an alien sensation in body that had not relied on a human heart for far too long, pounded loudly in his ears. "In the name of…"

The image that stared back at him seemed to be the figure of a ghost. Blue eyes stared back at him, wide with awe, staring out from beneath a fall of soft brown waves. Anakin traced the lines of his face, the skin smooth and unscarred. He looked no older than Luke was. He was the very image of himself as he was before that fateful day he had pledged himself to the Emperor.

"How…?"

"During the regeneration cycle, the Reconstructor analyzes the DNA structure and recreates the cells exactly as they were in the prime of the subject's life – for a human, we aim for approximately twenty-three Galactic Standard years. It is a risky procedure, as you know, and can only be performed once…perhaps twice in the life of an individual." The Jenuitte tilted his head. "It would not have made sense to artificially age the cells to your true age."

Anakin couldn't drag his eyes away from the phantom in the mirror. "Why not?"

"Organic tissue is not replicable indefinitely, Master Skywalker, not even at the micro-cellular level. To artificially age the cells would shorten the lifespan of the subject significantly. No one can cheat death, after all."

A wry smile touched Anakin's lips. "No," he said, remembering that in his arrogance that was exactly what he had thought he could do. "I suppose not."

"Your new ship has also been prepared per your request, Master Skywalker," the Jenuitte said. "You can leave at any time. And of course, per Center policy, all records will be destroyed once you leave, though I would recommend at least a week's stay. It will take time for you to become accustomed to your new body."

"No." Anakin shook his head firmly, finally tearing his gaze away from the mirror. "I've wasted far too much time already."

"Very well, Master Skywalker." The Jenuitte bowed and walked out, which left the soft sound of Anakin's breathing as the only noise left in the room. He closed his eyes, enjoying the simple act of breathing, the gentle sound so different from the heavy gasps of his respirator.

_I'm human again_, Anakin thought, a fierce joy seizing him. _Obi-Wan, thank you._

It had been his old master who had led him here. He hadn't said as much, but Anakin believed he was not just trying to save his old apprentice from the Dark side, but he was also trying to atone for his own actions on Mustafar. There wasn't a response, but Anakin hadn't really expected one. _Thank you. _

Anakin swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Every action seemed so strange to him, so unreal, and yet so familiar. He couldn't help the elation he felt. _He was human again! _He leapt from the table – and promptly fell to the ground as his legs collapsed under him.

"He wasn't kidding about this body," he said aloud as he struggled to his feet. Anakin's limbs felt alien to him, as if they belonged to someone else. He stood shakily for a moment, a wide smile on his face. He didn't just _look_ young, he _felt _young, as if the last two decades had been a terrible nightmare that he had only just now awoken from. Anakin took one step forward, and then another. His body was starting to respond to him, and he reminded himself that it _was_ his body, recreated from the genetic memories residing in his cells. He turned slowly.

A wave of dizziness threatened him, and without thinking he reached out to the Force to steady himself. He had barely touched it when he drew his mind back with a snap.

The Dark Side beckoned, seductively whispering it's siren song in his mind. Anakin wasn't ready for that yet. He would have to face it, he knew, if his plans were to succeed…but not just yet.

It would take time for him to relearn the control of the Jedi…and to resist the dark passions of the Sith.

But he had no time to waste here. Anakin waited for the dizzy spell to pass, and when he felt he could safely move without being in danger of falling, took to his feet again. He needed to get to his ship.

Anakin knew he had to hurry. He had to find the location of the Rebel base…and Leia…before Darth Eivel or the Emperor did.

_Everything_ depended on it.

**OoooOoooO**

"There is no evidence of Darth Vader, Lord Eivel," Captain Vesra said quietly. "We tracked his homing beacon here, but it seems that the shuttle had been scrapped for parts some time ago. There was not even enough to determine if Lord Vader had still been on that ship."

"And the salvage crews?"

"They claim no knowledge of where the shuttle came from – but that is not surprising. These types of deep-space riff-raff seldom tell the truth about anything."

Eivel smiled thinly. "Perhaps they would be more forthcoming if I spoke with them in person," he said softly. "Captain, I-"

The sudden touch on the tapestry of the Force was light, so light that Darth Eivel almost missed it. Only his extensive training over the past year allowed his finely attuned senses to catch it. The slight brush on his mind caused him to shoot from his seat in an instant. The Captain's eyes widened in fear as Eivel opened himself to the Dark Side of the Force, breathing it in, focusing the anger and frustration he had felt these past few months into a tight beam of power.

"Lord Eivel?" The Captain's voice was tremulous.

"Captain!" Eivel snapped his eyes towards the starship Captain, a cold satisfaction filling him at the fear in the Captain's eyes. He had found that the merest hint of the Dark side allowed to show in his eyes was usually enough to control his officers. He very rarely had to discipline any of them, and that was how he liked it. Over the past year his officers had come to learn that the worry that they had felt due to Darth Vader's angry habit of disposing of poor command material – permanently – was something that they didn't have to be concerned about with Darth Eivel. He had been a compassionate man before his training, after all, and he didn't see the point in wasting talent. "Repeat your scans. Has anything changed?"

The captain did so with hurried fingers. Numbers scrolled past in a whizzing blur.

"No, my lord."

"You're certain?"

"Yes."  
Eivel paced for a moment, his hands clasped behind his back. He _had_ felt it, he knew. Vader's touch on the Force was distinctive, and even for that brief moment he was certain he had felt his father – although, there was something different about it that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Captain, bring up the star charts of this region. Holographic display."

Planets and stars exploded around him as the holographic display burst into life. Eivel walked among them, his path seeming almost aimless, the illusion heightened by the fact that he had closed his eyes before he had even begun to move. "Father. Show yourself to me," he said softly, his voice nearly imperceptible. "Father, I'm searching for you. Help me."

There was no response. Eivel let his mind travel along the Force to where the brief disturbance had momentarily flowered. His hand traced along a holographic planet as his mind focused deeper and deeper into the Force.

"Here," he said abruptly, his eyes snapping open. "What is the name of this system?"

Captain Vesra swiftly checked his star charts. "That would be the Jenuitte system, Lord Eivel. An unaffiliated planet."

"Unaffiliated?"

"They have no Imperial Presence to speak of, though they are registered in the Imperial Database, and our latest intelligence shows no indication of a Rebel presence, either. The Jenuitte focus on genetic research, my lord."

"Genetic research?" Eivel frowned. "What sort of research?"

"Varying. Mostly minor cosmetic procedures." Captain Vesra coughed and looked at Eivel in some embarrassment. "It's a sort of 'beauty spa,' Lord Eivel. Many of the wealthier Outer Rim inhabitants go there to, ah, try and restore their youth."

_Why would Father go there? _

"Set a course for the Jenuitte system, Captain," Eivel ordered. "Estimated time of arrival?"

"Two days, my lord."

_Two days too long._ "I want to be there in thirty six-hours at the latest, Captain," Eivel said in his customary quiet voice. "Do I make myself clear?"

Captain Vesra nodded briskly. "Perfectly, my lord."

Eivel ignored the orders his officer began issuing as he walked away from the Captain. None of this made any sense. He had been searching for months, and now, at a strange planet at the very edges of the Outer Rim he was _sure_ he had sensed his father, however briefly, before Vader's mind was pulled from the entwinement of the Force.

What was happening here? Had his father been captured by the Rebels? Eivel couldn't believe that they would have left him alive. He was simply too dangerous. But nothing else came even close to making any sense.

And there was the strange resonance he had felt…he was certain it was Vader, but the sensations hadn't felt right. But the contact had been too fleeting to know just what it was that had confused Eivel so thoroughly.

"Lord Eivel?"

Eivel was ripped from his thoughts by the voice of the Captain. He turned slowly, "Yes, Captain Vesra?"

Vesra's eyes darted back and forth. "I just wanted to know what you wanted to do regarding the information we received about Princess Leia. The coordinates of her location were transmitted this morning. Shall I forward them to your quarters?"

"That would be fine, Captain." Eivel gifted the Captain with a rare smile, and the officer visibly relaxed. Eivel's officers might know that their lives were secure as long as they were competent…but that didn't make the times when he _did_ have to discipline them any easier on them. He had once been a compassionate man, true, but he was also now a Sith Lord.

And while Vader had a reputation for killing his officers, Eivel had developed one for keeping his alive…even when they might have preferred otherwise.

Eivel left the command deck to go to the peace and security of his quarters. He ignored the Stormtroopers that walked the corridors. The times when he had fought them in the Rebellion seemed vague and distant now, though he could remember it with crystal clarity.

_I have a responsibility. Being my father's son forces me to accept that responsibility. A society this large must have order, it must have control to keep it from destroying itself. The Rebels were idealistic, and hopeful, but naïve. They couldn't see how they were plummeting the galaxy to a certain endless age of civil war. _

Darth Eivel saw it now. And as he had learned to control the Dark Side, he had found that the balance he had once hoped to achieve was insignificant. What _was_ important was that the Empire would survive, and that the people could rest secure in the knowledge that they wouldn't be destined to wallow in centuries of bloodshed. Tight control was needed for that, Eivel knew, though it had been difficult for him to accept at first. He had come to learn the one great truth that the Jedi could never have understood – that with extreme power comes responsibility greater than that of mere mortal men – and to do that responsibility justice, one could not afford the luxury of morals. The galaxy needed guidance, not platitudes, and the immense power afforded by his abilities forced Darth Eivel to assist the Emperor in that guidance.

His father had taught him that.

_Father, I will find you._ Eivel sent the thought into the nether realms as he entered his quarters and sat on a low cushion. He harbored a great deal of anger for his father, and felt a strange hatred towards him for revealing these truths that Eivel would have been happier not knowing…but he also had a bond with him that he couldn't deny. He would do everything he could to bring Darth Vader back to him.

_Father!_

**OoooOoooO**

It took all of Anakin's willpower not to call out to Luke in return. He closed his eyes as his son's voice danced across his mind, the familiar cold burn teasing the edges of his consciousness.

"I'm sorry, Luke," he whispered into the emptiness of the cockpit. Anakin tried to push his son's entreaties to the farthest regions of his mind, focusing instead on piloting the small, light ship the Jenuitte had procured for him. It was intoxicating to once again be flying under the power of his own body, with no cold machinery or lifeless synthetics to interfere.

He didn't really know where he was going, or exactly how he was going to find Leia. He only felt that time was of the utmost urgency, and that however much he wanted to see his son he had to resist. He couldn't face the Sith right now. Anakin knew he didn't have the control, or the strength…Luke would destroy him.

_Father, I will find you. _

Anakin physically shook his head trying to rid himself of Luke's voice. There wasn't time for him to be so distracted now.

_Father!_

"A Jedi must be in control of his emotions, or they will control him," Anakin recited softly into the cockpit. "He must let the Force flow within him. Fear, anger, aggression - these lead to the Dark Side. Do not submit to fear. Be at peace with the Living Force."

Repeating those mantras taught to him at a very young age calmed Anakin somewhat. He could still feel the raw power of his son's mind searching the tapestry of the Force, but the serenity even these simple child's exercises brought him helped him to ignore it. For the first time since Anakin had initially felt Luke brush his mind, he felt he could endure it.

_Father, I've found Leia. I'm going to bring her back to me, back to us. We need you. Please, respond. Leia and I need you. _

Anakin's grip on the controls slipped. _Luke had found Leia?_ But Anakin hadn't even had the chance to look yet! It wasn't fair! How was he to save his children when he had nothing and no one to help him?

It was an impossible task that Obi-Wan had given him. One lone man, however powerful in the Force, couldn't defeat the Emperor, and after being under the control of Palpatine for so very long it was unthinkable that _Anakin_, of all people, could manage it. He was placing Luke in danger by the very thought of rebellion. Surely his former Master did not want Luke in such jeopardy. The Emperor could very well decide that any of the Skywalker line could destroy him, and eliminate the threat completely – by ensuring the deaths of both Luke and Leia.

_Fear leads to anger…anger leads to hate…and hate leads to the Dark Side._

"I can't do it, Master Yoda!" Anakin shouted to the phantom voice in his head. Obi-Wan was asking far too much of him, as he always had, and the frustration he had felt so often in his youth filled him. "I can't risk Luke and Leia's lives!"

_Is not their lives that are in danger,_ Yoda whispered in his mind. _Their souls, in peril are they. _

"I can't let them _die_!" Anakin screamed into the empty cockpit. He wished that he had never seen the phantoms in the house on Naboo. "How can I honor my vow if it will mean their lives?"

_Remember Padme, my brother._ Obi-Wan's presence washed over Anakin. _Remember the anguish in her eyes when you broke her heart. Imagine how much more sorrow she would feel to know that her two beloved children had fallen into darkness. Imagine her pain at their damnation by your hand. _

Flashes of that terrible day flickered in the screen of his mind, of Padme's tear-stricken face and his own towering anger as he had used his power to destroy the very one he had sworn to save. Her pleading that had fell upon his deaf ears then was all he could hear now. _Leave all this behind while we still can! _

Anakin's resolve steeled. Obi-Wan was right, damn him. Padme would not have wanted him to save their children's lives at the cost of their souls, however painful that would be. She had always done her duty, had always stayed true to her ideals. "I will not falter, Master." He said quietly, his frustration fading like a bad memory. His fear was still great, as was his anger at himself for creating this ungodly situation, but he would not allow it to control him again. He would be strong.

For Padme. For the children that were all that was left of her.

"Arfive," Anakin said. "Are there any Imperial cruisers in the vicinity?"

The R5 unit whirled and beeped. A readout popped up on his screen.

An Imperial cruiser was within two days' journey. Course projections indicated that they were heading to the Jenuitte system.

"He found me," Anakin said aloud, not being able to stop the fierce pride he felt at Luke's ability. "One small brush with the Force and he found me."

Anakin flipped the navigational display on. "All right, Arfive. Set a course back to the Jenuitte system…but only to the outer planets. We'll find a moon to stay on when we get there."

The droid bleeped disapproval. "Yes, I know that they can't support life," Anakin explained patiently. "I'm not planning on building a summer home there, Arfive. I just need a place to hide until the Imperial cruiser passes into the inhabited zones."

Anakin couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him at the electronic scolding that comment prompted. Astro-droids could be so _touchy_. "Yes, I am planning on boarding that cruiser. There's information on it that I need. But I don't want to risk running into Luke, Arfive, any more than you want to tangle with a battle droid."

Anakin's eyes narrowed. "He'll go down to the planet personally to search for me, I feel it. Nothing less would satisfy him after he felt my mind on his. I'll board while he's occupied on the surface, get what I need, and be out of there before anyone –even Luke – knows I was there."

The R5 unit called a low noise of displeasure followed by a sharp series of beeps. Anakin laughed again, a bittersweet sound.

"Yes, Arfive," he said, the ghost of his smile still hovering on his lips. "I have been called arrogant before."

_Beep!_

"Such language!" Anakin said sharply. "I have to go, Arfive. I need to find Leia before Luke does, and the only way I can do it is by getting those coordinates off his ship. Otherwise I'll never find her in time." The smile faded completely. "I wish there was some other way, but I can't risk it. I _have_ to get to Leia before Luke does."

Anakin felt strongly that without Leia, he would never be able to draw Luke back from the Dark side. If Luke or the Emperor found her first, if they succeeded in turning her to the Dark side, any hope Anakin had would be lost. With his sister by his side, Darth Eivel would be unstoppable, and once Leia learned to control her comparable gifts, they would be a force of incredible power. Anakin would have no chance against them, and his failure would be complete.

"Let's hurry, Arfive," Anakin told the droid grimly. "I want to find a _very _deep hole to hide in before that cruiser reaches Jenuitte."

He only hoped that wherever he found, it would be shelter enough.

There was no way that Anakin was prepared for a confrontation with Darth Eivel. He needed to make very sure that didn't happen.

Anakin sped faster.

**End of Part 3 **

Reviews greatly appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters, worlds, or races. I am making no money from this work, nor do I claim ownership of anything other than the story. This work is purely for enjoyment. So, enjoy!**_

**SPOILER ALERT! This takes elements from all 6 movies. Be forewarned if you have yet to see _Revenge of the Sith_ **

**Categories: Action/Adventure/Sci-fi/Angst**

**Primary Characters: **

_**Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader **_

_**Luke Skywalker/Dark! Luke**_

_**Princess Leia**_

_**Han Solo**_

**The Souls of Demons **

_**By Pyxelle**_

**Chapter 4 **

"I'm sorry, Lord Eivel," the Jenuiite Center director bobbed his gleaming head respectfully. "But we have no record of Lord Vader coming to our humble planet. To be quite honest, I haven't heard anything about him being in the system."

"Really." Eivel's voice was flat. "I have it on good authority that he was here, Director. Are you sure there's not something you might be forgetting?"

The director shook his head. "I don't believe so, my lord. What interest would the Empire have with us? We provide a small service for a select group of clientele who simply want to keep the fantasy of youth for a short while longer. We have nothing of value here."

"I'll be the judge of that, I believe." Eivel gestured to the stormtroopers behind him. "Search the databanks. I want every security holo the from the last three months, and every patient record."

"But my Lord!" the director protested in his reedy voice. "Those are private records, there is no reason –"

"Master Aladreai, is it not?" Eivel asked, and the Jenuiite made an affirmative noise. "Well, Master Aladreai, according to the Imperial Databanks, the Jenuiite system is still an Imperial Province, therefore making you subject to all the laws and directives of the Empire. If you wish to contest that…" he smiled slightly. "I suppose we can discuss it."

The hospital director hastily waved his slender hands in front of him. "No, no, of course not," he assured Eivel quickly. "We will assist in any way we can, my Lord. We are loyal members of the Empire."

"Splendid." Eivel's contented tone was nowhere near to his true feelings. Inside he was welling with frustration. Of course the Jenuiite had to be immune to mind tricks, making his job that much more difficult, though Eivel's impatience stemmed mostly from the need to utilize the stormtroopers. Shock troops were useful mostly for one thing – to do the dying in battle. Their usefulness in other matters, however, was limited.

"Lord Eivel." One of the stormtroopers emerged from a room. "There's a Genetic Reconstructor Device back here."

Eivel arched an eyebrow at the director. "Loyal members of the Empire, did you say?" The Jenuiite director had broken out in an oily sweat. "Tell me, as a loyal Imperial citizen, you do know that Reconstructors are illegal, don't you? That the potential risks were determined to be far too dangerous to offset the gains?"

"Of course, Lord Eivel," the director said quickly. "But you must understand, this facility has been around for quite some time, and we do not always have the time or the resources to dispose of old equipment."

"Oh, of course. That makes perfect sense." The Sith nodded thoughtfully, tapping his finger against his chin for a moment. "Except…haven't Reconstructors been illegal for seven years now?"

"If…if you say so, my Lord." A large black bead of sweat marred the perfect opaline surface of the Jenuiite's face. "I honestly-"

"I find it strange that you haven't been able to-" Eivel stopped. He had felt it again - the same light, gentle touch that somehow was eerily reminiscent of Vader's thoughts. This Jenuiite would have to be left for the stormtroopers to deal with. "Captain." He turned away from the confused director. "I want you to continue investigating this Center. Detain any and all active employees for interrogation."

"Yes, my lord."

Eivel's eyes rose skyward. "I'm going back to the ship, Captain. I feel confident that you will conduct the investigation as well as if you had me here to oversee you."

"Of course, Lord Eivel."

Eivel swept out of the room, pulling the black hood of his cloak over his head as he departed. He reached out with his mind…and then stopped.

Something was very wrong here. If this mysterious flickering in the Force _was_ his father, then why wasn't he answering? Could it be that there was another who had been trained to use the ancient Jedi arts…or another trained to focus the power of the Sith? If there was, Eivel had to learn about it. Such a threat to the Empire could not be allowed to go unchecked.

He waved away the pilot as he approached the shuttle.

Whoever it was out there, Eivel felt certain that stormtroopers would do him no good. Only another Sith – or Jedi – could have touched the Force the way Eivel had felt them do so.

"Who _are_ you?" Eivel whispered into the cockpit as he lifted off the landing pad.

**OoooOoooO**

"Stay here, Arfive!"

The green-accented droid spun its upper service plate in defiance. It whistled angrily.

Anakin threw up his hands. "All right! What do I care if you get tossed into an Imperial junk heap, you neurotic bucket of bolts! You can go to the auxiliary control room and wait for me there, all right? Is that safe enough for you? That way, if anyone comes into this very _safe_ and very _private_ Imperial hangar, you won't have to explain yourself. If they decide to make sure there are no cowardly droids hiding in the aux room, I'm not saving you - you go on the junk heap. Understand?"

Another sharp chirp answered him.

"Well, it's stay in the ship, go in the aux room, or get ejected into space, got it? No one is going to come in here! Luke's private ship is still here, see? He went to the surface in a transport. You're perfectly safe!"

_Bleep. Whirrr. Beepbeep._

"Why am I yelling? Because I don't have _time_ to argue with a droid right now! That _will_ get us caught. So get!"

The astro-droid sulked with a quiet whistle as it dismounted from the ship and followed Anakin's pointed finger leading into the auxiliary control room. Arfive would be safe there, Anakin reasoned, unless the temperamental droid the Jenuiite had saddled him with drove him crazy and he ended up throwing it out the airlock. That strangely random thought made him wonder briefly if the Reconstruction device had done something to his mind, after all, despite the tests that he had been assured were normal…his behavior seemed nearer to that of his younger padawan self than that of the older Vader.

But on second reflection, he thought maybe he knew why. He had denied the part of him that was Vader. His only other reference for his identity _was_ the young man he had been during his days at the Jedi temple. His very self was in a state of flux. After all, how in the galaxy could Anakin know what he would have been like if he hadn't succumbed to Palpatine's lies? A good man? A wise one? There was no way of knowing.

It was almost as if Anakin had to learn to be a man all over again.

That was a troubling thought.

Anakin had felt a huge measure of relief when his codes for the Imperial hangar still were operational. There was no reason why they shouldn't have been, but the possibility had existed. The matter of the sensors had been more difficult. None of the sensors penetrated the Imperial hangar, true, but he had been sorely pressed to fly into that null sensor space without being detected. He had been forced to cheat a little…he had used the Force very briefly to create a four-second sensor glitch in their scans. He had resisted the call of the Dark side when he had done so, but only barely. Still, it had allowed him time to fly in through the path of the tampered sensors into the null space beneath the ship and input the entry codes through short-range communication. The entry mechanisms shouldn't have been monitored, either, as only Anakin, Luke, and the Emperor knew the frequency to open the private hangar. But the fact that he had manipulated the Force so close to Luke, who knew his mind so well, meant that Anakin had very little time. It was possible that Luke hadn't felt his actions, but Anakin thought it unlikely.

He made sure the door had shut securely behind Arfive before slipping out of the hangar and into the corridor. No one was there. Anakin ran softly on nearly silent feet across the corridor, glancing quickly both ways before advancing and keeping his senses alert for noise. He was profoundly grateful that most of his limbs' functions seemed to have come back over the past two days, though he still felt he wouldn't win a duel with even the smallest of younglings if he needed to.

_Which he wouldn't, as all the younglings, and padawans, and Jedi at the temple had been slaughtered by his hand…_

Anakin tried to push the dark memories away. He had nearly reached the Imperial quarters, where he was sure Luke would have kept a copy of the coordinates he somehow had managed to acquire. As he reached the doors to Luke's rooms, he swore under his breath. There were two armed stormtroopers flanking the entrance.

He had forgotten about the increased security around himself and his son.

There was only two of them, though, and he could deal with them easily…without even thinking about it his hand went to the lightsaber he had strapped on the black leather belt he was wearing. He would dispose of them, and then get the coordinates. He began to gather in his strength to reach out to the Force –

_No! No more killing_.

Anakin pressed himself against the wall and splayed his hands against the cold metal. He was trembling at what he had nearly just done, the instinct to kill so firmly embedded in him that he had begun his actions without their repercussions ever crossing his mind. They were only stormtroopers – clones – but he mustn't kill without reason. Just because the stormtroopers were blocking him was certainly no reason to destroy them. There _was_ another way.

Anakin closed his eyes and began to breathe rhythmically. _Serenity…calm…focus, _he said to himself silently._ Let it flow, Anakin. Remember your training. You can do this._

Though the basic concept was the same, he had not used the Jedi techniques for mind control for many years. The Sith fought for control of the Force, which was what made their anger and their hatred so valuable to them…the rage provided strength, without which the Dark Side would easily overwhelm you. A Jedi moved with the Light, guided it gently, coaxed it to do what they wanted. The struggle for the control of the power was not there, but to keep one's mind focused enough to submit to the Force as an ally rather than to command it like a slave was a difficult skill to learn and master.

Anakin hadn't practiced it in years.

He moved. There was only so much time, and even if Anakin could still feel the tension in his mind, he knew he wasn't going to be able to bring himself to a state of complete calm as the Jedi way said he should. He simply didn't have that degree of skill anymore.

"Sleep," he ordered, letting the Force touch each stormtroopers' minds briefly before releasing it. The white-armored guards sunk to the floor with a quiet clatter.

Anakin couldn't help the grin that spread on his face. He had done it…completely without the desire to reach for the Dark side.

But he didn't have time to linger. Anakin dragged the unconscious bodies of the stormtroopers into Luke's quarters, lying them next to his bed, and turned to the computer to start his search in earnest.

The coordinates had to be in here somewhere.

**OoooOoooO**

There was no doubt that there was a Force-trained warrior on his star cruiser. Darth Eivel could sense another fluctuation clearly as he angled his ship towards the docking bays. But as to whether it was Darth Vader was no longer so easy to determine.

His first instinct told Eivel that it was, but the force-trained stowaway was manipulating the Light side. So a Jedi, then…or someone who had been trained in their arts. The Jedi were said to be extinct, but the Emperor had taught him to never underestimate any situation…and Jedi or not, Eivel couldn't allow him to use his ship as his own personal playground.

Perhaps it was this 'Jedi' that had been responsible for Darth Vader's disappearance…it could be he sensed some link to his father, rather than Vader himself. That could account for the strange discrepancies he had been feeling.

His confidence returning, Eivel swung the transport into the main docking bay. Whoever it was had released the Force, but Eivel had an inkling of where a Jedi might head first.

Darth Eivel was, after all, a Sith Lord…and the Jedi had been pledged to destroy the Sith. If this Jedi-trained warrior had Vader, then they were most likely coming for him.

Eivel set the transport down gently and leapt from the cockpit. "Commander!" he shouted as he landed gracefully onto the floor and began running. "Seal the docking bay. We seem to have an uninvited visitor on board. I want no ships entering or leaving this vessel, do you understand?"

He didn't wait around for an answer. He knew he would be obeyed. Eivel carefully avoided letting his mind even near the Force, wary of alerting his prey to his presence. He would take the Jedi by surprise if he could.

Darth Eivel ran towards his quarters.

**OoooOoooO**

"It's got to be here!" Anakin growled in frustration. He had scanned all recent coordinate records, even the ones in Luke's private files – the crisis locations that the emperor had set aside in the unlikely event that they ever needed emergency shelter.

Had Luke been lying to him? The thought made Anakin pause. Was it possible that the Emperor already knew of his defection, and he had sent Luke here to deceive and defeat him? After a brief moment of near panic, Anakin dismissed the idea. If that had been the case, Luke would not have used Leia as bait.

The Emperor would have used Luke.

Perhaps it was on a datapadd. Anakin's eyes swung around the chamber, resting on Luke's desk for only a moment before going to it.

There was a datapadd in the top drawer, but it was wedged in tightly. Anakin yanked hard, and the datapadd came loose, causing something metallic to rattle in the small drawer. He ignored it.

Anakin flipped through the information on the datapadd, and to his great relief found what he was looking for.

_**Location of Rebellion base – Borunn system. (Southern polar continent)**_

_**Physical coordinates on record in holographic database under file 223a45**_

_**Active Rebellion Leaders presumed stationed:**_

_Han Solo_

_Leia Organa-Solo_

_Lando Calrissian_

_**Essential base operations staff: Known rebel identifications:**_

_Jara Breall_

_Uiq-Dae Nerina_

Anakin didn't finish reading the datapadd. He had the information he needed. He could program the coordinates for the Borunn system into his ship manually. A part of him wanted to erase the data, keeping it from Luke, but he was certain his son had already seen it. All deleting the data would do was alert Luke to his presence. Anakin dropped the datapadd back into the drawer.

It wouldn't fit. He suddenly remembered he had loosened something that had been jammed up against the back of the drawer. He lifted the datapadd up to push whatever had slid forward to the back again.

His hand froze over what he saw there. Luke's lightsaber, the one he had come onto the Deathstar with in his brave and foolhardy attempt to save Vader, was resting in this drawer. He picked up the lightsaber slowly. Luke had not only kept this after he had been gifted the traditional red Sith blade…he traveled with it?

A tiny flame of hope flickered into life within him. A part of Luke Skywalker still remained…this memento was proof. Darth Eivel would have no use or affection for a Jedi blade…but Luke Skywalker would.

"You know, in the Empire we call this stealing."

Anakin's head shot up, and he silently cursed himself. He had taken too long, and his discovery had made him let his guard down. Luke was there, his red lightsaber already drawn and his eyes burning. Still, Anakin couldn't take his mind from the Jedi lightsaber he held.

"You kept this," he said softly. "Why?"

There was the briefest moment of confusion in Luke's _(Darth Eivel's)_ eyes before he launched himself at Anakin. Anakin didn't fight back, he dropped, rolling under the desk and bounding to his feet on the other side.

"Why, Luke?" he demanded of the Sith who paced menacingly on the opposite side of the desk. He still had Luke's old lightsaber in his hand, but he hadn't ignited it. "You belong to the Emperor now. Why keep it?"

His son didn't answer, but Anakin could feel his confusion and his anger about the question. He didn't like that Anakin had found his keepsake. Maybe if he kept him talking, Anakin could reach him. "Luke, I know-"

He didn't get to finish. Before the words could come out, Luke crouched briefly, and in one lightning movement leapt up, landing on the desk and swinging his lightsaber down hard.

Instinct took over. Anakin dropped into stance, and the lightsaber in his hand ignited, its green glow slamming against the Sith's blade with a clashing of light. Anakin stared at Luke with genuine questioning in his eyes as he used all his physical strength to keep the crimson blade from touching him. "I want an answer, Luke. What use do you have for it now?"

Anakin pushed against Luke with all his might, throwing him off the desk and onto the floor. Luke landed lithely on his feet and spun towards him.

Again, Luke didn't answer with anything other than a flurry of blows. Anakin parried them desperately, knowing that he was treading on dangerous ground. His body still did not obey his commands as well as it should, and he was desperately trying to avoid drawing on the Force…but more dangerously, he knew his questioning was angering the young Sith, feeding into the power he could feel pulsing off his son.

His only advantage right now, though, was that his questions had clearly set Luke off balance. He had obviously come in here expecting a fight, and though Anakin was defending himself as best he could, he was sure Luke could tell that he would not be a difficult opponent to beat. In his weakened state, Anakin was certain his son would realize quickly how easily Anakin could be beaten.

Luke swung again, but Anakin leapt nimbly out of the path of Luke's lightsaber, putting the large bed between him and his raging son. There was little space left for him to continue his retreat.

"A Sith has no need for a Jedi's blade. Even if it _was_ yours once."

Luke started advancing slowly.

"And a true Sith wouldn't cling so tightly to his Jedi past, would he, Luke?" Anakin's back struck the wall. He could go no further. "Certainly one would not bring this memento with them on a mission for the Emperor."

Luke stared at him incredulously. "Who _are_ you?" he whispered. "How do you know me?"

_Of course!_ Anakin nearly groaned. _Luke had no idea who he was._ Why would he? Anakin had never shown him a holo of himself before Mustafar, and the Emperor certainly wouldn't have given him one. So unless Luke had gone deliberately out of his way to seek out the information, he would have had no idea what Anakin had looked like before he was strapped into that black mechanical prison he had lived in for so long.

But…couldn't he sense who he was? Didn't Luke recognize Anakin's presence anymore?

Apparently not. Luke's burning eyes held no recognition.

"I'm-"

"What have you done with Lord Vader?" the Sith demanded, interrupting him. His eyes glowed with the power of the Dark Side, and Anakin felt a very un-Jedi like urge to shiver. "Where is my father?"

"I…" Anakin didn't know what to say. A weird déjà vu stole over him as his mind replayed that climatic battle where he had taken Luke's hand and revealed his true identity. But he had been in control then, confident in his abilities and his son's inevitable submission. His lightsaber dipped as his mind struggled with an answer. "I don't know how…"

_"Where is my father!_ " Luke screamed, not waiting for Anakin to finish. Like it had so many times with Anakin, the rage won, and Luke was suddenly diving forward, the red lightsaber aimed right for Anakin's heart.

With the innate instincts of his powerful birthright, Anakin knew that he would never get his borrowed lightsaber up quickly enough to block that blow. A wave of pure fury crashed into him, drowning Anakin in its power.

This couldn't happen! He couldn't fail before he'd even begun!

"_No!"_ he screamed, seizing the Force through his rage and feeling the cold fire of the Dark side flare in his eyes. _"Not yet!"_

That sight was obviously Luke's undoing. He faltered when he saw Anakin's face fill with the same power he himself was channeling, not much, but for the briefest of moments…and that was all Anakin needed. He lashed out at his son, his mind sending an invisible ball of pure energy at him. Luke crumpled in mid-air as the deadly force bent him around it, causing him to drop his lightsaber to the ground with a clatter, and he flew backwards across the room. He struck the wall with a sickening _thud_, slid to the floor, and was still.

That sound penetrated the aura the Dark Side had created around him, and Anakin released the Force in horror. What had he done? "Luke!'

Anakin scrambled across the floor to where his son lay. Luke was breathing, but his head was cut deeply and blood was flowing freely down his face. "Luke, are you all right?"

There was no answer. Anakin searched with his eyes, assessing Luke's injuries to the best of his abilities, and to his immense relief found no great apparent harm. He started to reach out, intending to wake the young man…and drew his hand back.

Luke still considered Anakin his enemy.

Anakin couldn't stay here. Couldn't help him.

Not yet.

Anakin pushed down the guilt that swelled in him. He had to do what was necessary to save _both_ his children. Right now, he wasn't strong enough to best Luke…and he certainly wasn't as in control of himself as he needed to be to bring Luke back into the Light.

Damnation, he hadn't even brought _himself_ back yet.

The thought of leaving him here, subject to the tyranny of the Emperor, crushed Anakin's newly awoken heart. He thought briefly about taking Luke with him, but he knew that would be a mistake – if Luke bested Anakin after they had reached Leia, she would quickly be in Palpatine's grasp. For now, Luke had to remain here. Until Anakin was stronger in the Light…and he had destroyed every trace of Darth Vader left lingering in his soul.

"I'm sorry, Luke," Anakin said softly to his unconscious son, stroking his soft blonde hair gently. It was the first real act of affection he could remember ever giving Luke. "I have to honor my vow to your mother. I promise, I'll be back for you. I won't leave you alone in darkness."

Anakin sighed as he stood, his mind still swimming with guilt regarding what he had so easily succumbed to. He hadn't even tried to reach out to the power he remembered from his days as a Jedi…he had willingly harnessed his rage and yielded to the Dark arts of the Sith. He felt as if he was going to be physically ill from his failure to resist…but the worst part of that feeling was the desperate longing to forsake his resolve.

That was what _truly_ turned Anakin's stomach. Not the fact that he had turned to the Dark Side in anger…but that he wanted that feeling back.

_Obi-Wan, help me. I need your guidance._

But the room remained stubbornly silent.

Anakin stared down at Luke's form for a moment, then back at the bed. He sighed as he realized what he had to do.

The sheets on the bed were thin Coruscant silk, and tore easily. As quickly as he could, Anakin wove several strips of the cloth into one reasonably sturdy rope. Another sigh escaped him as he knelt back next to Luke's immobile form. "I hate to have to do this, my son," he told Luke, even though he knew the young man could not hear him. He began to tie his hands together behind his back. "But I can't have the alarm raised until I've gotten safely away from this system. You'll be fine. When no one's heard from you for a few hours, they'll come looking."

Anakin picked Luke up from the ground, his still-weakened legs nearly buckling under the weight. He went over to the closet and hit the "open" switch with his elbow.

"I will be back for you, Luke," Anakin said one last time as he lay Luke down on the floor as comfortably as he could. He gazed at Luke's slack, unconscious face one last time, and winced at his handiwork. "I swear I'll come back for you."

Anakin slid the door shut. He picked up Luke's Jedi lightsaber from where he had dropped it, and ignited it. For a moment he simply admired the shimmering green blade. Did it actually seem lighter than the Sith lightsabers, or was that his imagination?

He supposed it didn't matter. Anakin made one quick swipe at the door's locking mechanism and it melted together in an unrecognizable mass of metal.

It would take hours to cut through the door – and it could be hours before Luke was even discovered. It afforded Anakin ample time to get the hell off this cruiser and well on his way to Borunn.

Anakin put Luke's old lightsaber carefully back in its drawer, leaving the datapadd resting on his desk. There was still no reason to take it. With one last glance at the temporary prison he had placed his son in, Anakin began to walk towards the doors – and stopped. He glanced back at the data file still open on the datapadd.

_Location of Rebellion base – Borunn system. (Southern polar continent)_

_Physical coordinates on record in holographic database under file 223a45._

An idea began to form in Anakin's mind. Luke had already filed the coordinates into the ships navigation system. He had simply coded them so that the _reason_ for them was not apparent.

Which meant Luke had probably coded it himself. Luke's focus was on Leia, not the rebel base. But if the Star Destroyer were to go to Borunn, battle would almost surely result.

Anakin stepped back over to the computer and began searching through the navigational plans for Darth Eivel's personal starship. He found the file almost right away.

_223a45_.

Luke was planning on going alone. He had no intention of bringing a Star Destroyer with him and risking Leia in a battle. Anakin was sure he wasn't even planning on bringing a detachment of stormtroopers. He had always insisted to Vader and the Emperor that the stormtroopers were unreliable.

"Not disloyal, of course," Anakin remembered him saying. "Just…difficult to rely on. They're cannon fodder, not strategists."

Grimly, Anakin brought up the file. A few minor changes, and Luke's ship would be directing him close enough to Borunn not to cause suspicion…but not close enough to find Leia. It wouldn't take long before Luke would discover the tampering, but it would buy Anakin another twelve hours or so, if he timed it right. Hopefully that would give him enough time.

And Anakin fully believed that when he found Leia, he was going to need all the time he could get.

**End of Part 4**

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	5. Chapter 5

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters, worlds, or races. I am making no money from this work, nor do I claim ownership of anything other than the story. This work is purely for enjoyment. So, enjoy!_

**SPOILER ALERT! This takes elements from all 6 movies. Be forewarned if you have yet to see _Revenge of the Sith_ **

**Categories: **Action/Adventure/Sci-fi/Angst

**Primary Characters: **

_Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader _

_Luke Skywalker/Dark! Luke_

_Princess Leia_

_Han Solo_

**The Souls of Demons **

_**By Pyxelle**_

**Chapter 5**

_"I got it!" Han said excitedly. A shower of sparks rained on him for a moment, and he and Leia both raised their arms to protect themselves from the bright electrical discharge. Leia looked back at the door, arching one eyebrow as the security doors slammed shut on the outer hatch. Han sighed in frustration._

_"Let me take a look at that," Leia said, standing and moving slightly from her shelter. "I think maybe if we use R-2's interface coil-"_

_A blaster pulse cut her off as it struck her, searing her chest and starting her shirt to smoldering. Leia tried to scream, but it seemed that all the air had disappeared from her lungs, leaving them as empty as the vacuum of space. She could feel her skin burning, and her eyes sought out Han as she slid down the wall, her vision clouding. The blaster slipped through her numb fingers onto the soft earth beneath her._

_"Leia!" Han dropped next to her, a hysterical worry in his eyes. He put one arm around her to help guide her fall, and through an increasingly heavy fog she could see the desperate fear in his eyes. "Leia, no, please no...are you all right?"_

_"I…can't…" Her voice was nearly silent, and it seemed impossible to form the words._

_"Freeze!" an unfamiliar voice said harshly._

_Two stormtroopers came within her field of vision, but their images were hazy. She suddenly felt cold, despite the scorching on her chest. Everything was fading, fading, even Han's voice in the background. She searched his eyes. "Han…"_

_One of the stormtroopers walked up to them and grabbed Han's arm, trying to pull him off Leia. _

_"Get your filthy hands off me!" Han snarled at them, yanking his arm away. _

_"We have orders to escort you to the Deathstar," one of the stormtroopers said, leveling his weapon at Han. "Dead or alive. It's your choice."_

_Dead, in her case. She could feel her breath becoming shallow. "Han, I'm sorry…"_

_"Shh," Han's eyes were anxious as he stroked her hair. "You're going to be all right."_

_"I'm so cold, Han." Leia closed her eyes in pain. "It hurts."_

_One of the stormtroopers tapped his suit's comm system. "Admiral, we have them. The princess is injured. Please prepare the medical facilities for when we arrive." The stormtrooper tried to pull Han off of her once again, but Han shoved him, hard, and he stumbled back a few feet._

_"I said to keep your filthy hands off of me!" _

_"We have our-"_

_"Your damned orders, yeah, I know," Han growled, though his hands remained gentle on her. He scooped her up, and Leia tried to take refuge in his warmth. "We'll go, okay? But not one of you slime balls are going to lay a hand on her."_

_Leia shook her head - or tried to. She clung to consciousness tenaciously. "No, Han…"_

_"Shhh, don't talk, all right? It's going to be okay. I won't let them hurt you, I promise." And then he was fading, fading…_

Han, don't let Vader have me…after what Luke told me…Han, please…Han…

**OoooOoooO**

"Han!" Leia shouted as she sat up in bed. Her pulse was racing, and there were tears on her cheeks. She glanced over to Han's side of the bed, and sighed. It was vacant. He must have woken already and let her sleep, knowing that sleep itself was a pleasure which Leia rarely enjoyed anymore.

She was actually glad he was gone. The nightmares had increased in intensity of late, and Leia was feeling like she was beginning to reach her breaking point. Her mind was constantly swirling with sensations and images she could never quite define, and it had been worse since they had left Naboo. It was getting harder for her to let go at each waking, and she knew Han was sick with worry over her. She hated that he was. She had always been self-sufficient, and proud of it, and the fact that she felt she was losing herself little by little scared her nearly to death.

Leia tried to get control of herself. She wasn't going to get anymore sleep, even though she hadn't planned on getting up for a few more hours. She wanted to shake the dream off, despising its control over her…control it had because it wasn't really a dream, it was a memory. In her mind, it was the point at which the battle of Endor had truly been lost. Their inability to bring down the deflector shield had caused the Rebel force to be decimated, leaving its few straggling survivors to flee and hide themselves across the galaxy. Because the leaders numbered so few that they could not afford to risk all of them in one area, it had been decided that they also could not be concentrated in one safe base . The two main hideouts right now were the Borunn Province, under the guidance of Leia, Han and Lando, and the other the Vegalles System, which was currently headed by Admiral Ackbar and Mon Mothma.

Leia slipped out of bed, absently rubbing the shiny pink scar across the left side of her chest. It was faded, now, but she had developed a somewhat nervous habit of massaging it after her nightmares, as if to assure herself that she was still alive and not in the clutches of the Emperor. She hated remembering back to those few short days aboard the Deathstar, after their failure on the Endor moon. She had been treated kindly at first, given all the treatment and expertise of the Imperial medical staff…but it was there that she had seen the first changes in Luke, and had realized that she had lost her brother almost as soon as she had found him. She had seen Luke's coldness, had sensed his confusion and hatred, and had failed at helping him resolve it…

Oh, but it hurt to think about Luke.

She showered and dressed, her mind pensive as she braided and coiled her dark hair about her head. She still couldn't bring herself to think of Luke as Darth Eivel. She knew she should accept the fact that Luke Skywalker was dead, and that Darth Eivel was her mortal enemy…but it wasn't that easy. She had accepted - to some degree, at least - that her real father had been Anakin Skywalker. Darth Vader himself was not. Anakin had been a hero of the Republic, a Jedi warrior who had risked his life hundreds of times for others. Darth Vader was a mechanical monster that had swallowed Anakin whole and corrupted his body to house himself. Leia had taken refuge in that belief, that Vader and Anakin were two entirely separate people. It made things so much easier.

But she couldn't do that with Luke. Her last memories of him with her were still of his same open, handsome face, the same strong young body - and although she knew he had changed inside, the external resemblance made it nearly impossible for her to accept the fact that Luke Skywalker was dead. But just because Darth Eivel wore his face didn't mean she could afford to show any compassion for the monster he had become.

There was a beep from the intra-base communications. She flicked the switch on with one hand, the other firmly placing one last hairpin into her coiled braids. "Yes?"

"Princess Leia,we've detected an unidentified starship on our long range sensors," Dena Beratt said, her blue-tinted face in the vid-screen showing signs of worry. "Unknown make and model. General Solo and General Calrissian have already been informed."

Leia nodded once, glad she had decided to follow her instincts and get up rather than try to catch a few more hours of precious sleep. "I'm on my way, commander."

She left her room quickly. Stragglers from the Rebel Alliance still surfaced every so often, though they were becoming increasingly more rare. As she continued on her way, she tried not to think about the numbers of brave souls they had lost. She hoped this unidentified vessel held more of the lost Alliance members, even if they hadn't found another for nearly three months.

If it didn't…well, they would deal with that if they needed do.

**OoooOoooO**

Anakin awoke to the frenzied sound of Arfive chirping frantically at him. "Calm down, Arfive," he said groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He still hadn't gotten used to the necessity for real sleep yet...but at least he hadn't dreamed. He hated the dreams.

Trying his best to clear the fog in his brain, Anakin glanced out toward the droid.

"What's all the racket about?"

A whirring warning caused him to sit up ramrod straight in the cockpit. "Rebel fighters? Are you sure?"

_"Unidentified vessel, this is your last warning! If you do not make contact or break orbit, we will begin firing!"_

"No!" Anakin flipped the communications switch, his mind waking up instantly. "I read you, uh…"

_"Borunn province, Pilot, and I'd like you to state your business."_

His business? Damn it all, he had wanted to find a way down to the planet in secrecy, and because of his deep sleep had not realized when the autopilot had eased them into orbit. "Uh…"

_"Your name, then…you do know that, don't you? You have a name, I presume?"_ the woman's tinny voice lost none of its sarcasm over the connection.

"Of course I have a name," Anakin snapped into the comm. His mind blanked as he tried to speak. Who should he tell them he was? Not Darth Vader, certainly, they would either shoot him down without a thought or take him to a medical center where medi-droids would poke needles full of mind-altering drugs into him.

Finally he let out a deep sigh and shrugged. He didn't have the time to play these games, and if Leia actually _was_ on this planet, the mere name of Skywalker would get him seen quickly. In shackles, perhaps, but in her presence.

Come to think of it, it might come to shackles even if she wasn't on it. The quickly infamous Darth Eivel had tarnished the Skywalker name far more than he ever had. As far as the Imperial records were concerned, by his own request, Anakin Skywalker had died the same day Padme Amidala was buried.

But he wasn't going to start this all with a lie.

"My name is Anakin Skywalker," he said wearily into the comm, wondering if Leia had shared her heritage with the rebels. Would this name mean anything to them - besides linking him to Darth Eivel?

Somehow the near-silent buzz of the commlink managed to convey the ground controller's shock. _"_What_ was that name again?"_

"Anakin Skywalker," he said clearly and slowly. "And I've come to see Princess Leia Organa-Solo."

More silence.

He had thought that would get their attention.

In a very short time, a small pair of fighters shot out of the atmosphere, flanking him. Four more came rounding Borunn's single moon.

"Six fighters?" He couldn't help the wry chuckle that escaped him. "That's flattering."

"_Master Skywalker, if you would follow the fighters in, please_?"

"Ground Control, is Princess Leia here?"

A pause. _"Princess Leia has been declared a traitor to the Empire and is wanted to stand trial for her treason against the Imperial Government."_ Ground Control said in a carefully neutral voice. "_We are not in Imperial Space. The question is irrelevant."_

_Hardly._ Anakin thought as he followed the fighters into the atmosphere.

But he thought he had his answer.

**OoooOoooO**

People parted like the waves of the long-gone Alderaan seas before her.

"What kind of demented prankster would do something like this?" Leia demanded in a voice boiling with anger.

"Leia." Han and Lando were nearly running to keep up with her. "Leia, cool your jets - Lando and I can't keep up!"

Leia stopped so suddenly that Han nearly crashed into her. Lando managed to stop a little more gracefully, but only because he hadn't quite been as close to the raging princess as Han had. Leia spun. "Cool my jets?" she asked him with a dangerous glint in her eye. "Did you just tell me to 'cool my jets?'"

Han took a tiny step back. "Uh…"

"Well, get ready for a hyperspace drive blow-out, boys, because whoever this blasted pilot is, he's going to be bantha kibble when I'm through with him. Calling himself Anakin Skywalker? Where would he have even heard that name? And how in the galaxy did he know to trace it to me?"

She started moving furiously down the corridor, shaking her head and grumbling, though she wasn't really addressing either of the men. "Anakin Skywalker. Does he think he's going to extort money out of me? Threaten to plaster it over the newsvids? 'Hey! Guess what? You know that Rebel traitor who went into hiding? She's Darth Vader's daughter! Is it any wonder Vader always manages to find the rebel bases? He's got a blood link to them!'"

Han and Lando skidded to a stop again as she spun to face them. "I'll tell you one thing," she said tightly, waving one finger at them as if she were scolding two young boys she had just caught playing Frisbee with rare Third-Dynasty Coruscant china. "If he's wearing some stupid costume or something to try and unnerve me or keep me off balance, I'll strip every last piece of clothing off of him and we can interrogate him naked for all I care."

Leia barely noticed the worried looked her husband and his friend shared.

"Leia, I already told you what he looks like," Lando tried to remind her. He had been one of the fighter pilots who had gone out to meet this 'Anakin Skywalker.' The shock on Lando's face when she had told him who Anakin Skywalker really was -a secret she had managed to keep hidden, and something that for some reason Luke had not yet revealed to the galaxy - was a look Leia didn't think she'd ever forget. "Tall, brown hair, blue eyes - no mask, no cape, just a simple dark brown pair of pants and a shirt. Looks about twenty or so. He just looks…well, normal."

The last was said as they entered the large room the Rebellion kept protected for the rare times when they had captured Imperial prisoners who needed a little extra security. Leia had ordered the detaining crew to bring this imposter here, even after they had assured her that in no way, shape or form was this man able to be Darth Vader.

"Normal?" the young man at the end of the table said. Leia felt her heart stop as she met his soft blue eyes. "I'd say a little better than normal. But I guess beauty really is in the eye of the beholder."

"Oh, gods," Leia whispered. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. All she could do is stare at the phantom across from her, her mind whirling and refusing to accept what she saw. "It's not possible."

"Hello, Leia." The man who wore Anakin's face smiled pleasantly. "I'd kiss your hand, but…" He shook his wrists, indicating the wide metallic bands that had him chained to the table. "I'm a little tied up right now."

Leia sank down into the chair across from him, her eyes wide and unblinking.

"Its not possible," she repeated. "You can't be real."

Han rested one hand on her shoulder. "Leia, are you all right?"

Leia shook her head mutely. The man across from her frowned slightly.

"I'm sorry, Leia, I didn't mean to upset you… though, I suppose I did know there was no way of avoiding it…" the Anakin-imposter sighed, his face falling for a moment, and then he offered her a small half-smile. "But I apologize for it all the same."

Leia couldn't control the sob that escaped her. He looked exactly like Luke when he did that.

"You're not real," she said.Maybe if she kept reaffirming that, it would somehow become true.

"Leia, what's going on?" Han asked, his brow furrowing. "We know who Anakin Skywalker really is, and sweetheart, that ain't him."

"Actually, Captain Solo, you don't, and, I am."

"Look, pipsqueak-"

Leia cut him off. "Han, look at him!"

Instead, Han just looked down at Leia perplexedly. A little of her signature quick-breeding irritation surfaced, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "_Look_ at him, Han!"

Han obediently looked at him, rudely dragging his eyes up and down a few times. "I am. Nothing special, just some snot-nosed kid who's got one _lousy_ sense of humor."

Theinsult was said while Han stared the young man dead in the eye. The strange pilot simply arched one eyebrow at Han in response.

"Han, are you blind?" Leia craned her neck up to look at him from the chair. "Remember the holo? On Naboo?"

Han stared at her blankly.

"_My parents' wedding recordings?"_

"Yeah…what about-" Suddenly Han's eyes opened wide and his eyes snapped back, becoming riveted on the stranger in front of him.

"No," he said, shaking his head disbelievingly. "No…"

"I'm missing something here, aren't I?" Lando said uncomfortably. "Look, I can go wait outside-"

"Don't you dare!" Han barked at him. Even when he was addressing Lando, however, he couldn't tear his eyes away. He slid down into the chair next to Leia, and she took comfort in his close warmth.

"It's just not possible," Leia repeated.

"Actually, Leia, nothing's really impossible…" the Anakin-imposter said. "Obi-Wan and I could go for hours about that particular conundrum. I held with the theory that nothing is really impossible - there are just different levels of improbability. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, firmly believed that the universe would not permit certain…" he trailed off, and bit his lip. "Sorry. I came off a little pompous there, didn't I?"

"Just a little," Lando said shortly. He looked down at Leia and Han, obviously hoping for some sort of explanation, but Leia found herselfin the throes of some mild form of paralyzation. "Would someone _please_ tell me what in _hell_ is going on? Who are you? Why are you two acting like you've seen a ghost?"

Only silence answered him. "Han, Leia, would you get your thumbs out of your asses and let me know what in _hell_ is happening here?"

"There's no need to be vulgar," the Anakin-imposter scolded, shooting a warning glance at Lando. "That's the second time you've offended Leia's ears with profanity since you've come in here. Remember who she is. She should be treated accordingly."

"Listen, junior, I know who she is. I know who Han is, I know who I am, hell, I even know the name of the girl they get every three days to readjust my fighter's wing alignment." Lando obviously hadn't liked being scolded by someone who appeared to be ten years his junior. "Cute little blonde named Brigitte. The only one I _don't_ know around here is you."

The strange pilot looked up at him coldly. "I've already told you. My name is Anakin Skywalker. I'm Luke and Leia's father."

"And I'm the Queen of Naboo," Lando snorted. "You look like you've got twenty years under your belt, _Anakin_. That was quite a trick, conceiving twins before you were even born."

The Anakin-imposter clenched his fists in frustration. "Obi-Wan, even dead you manage to get me into trouble," he muttered to no one.

"Obi-Wan?" Leia managed to get out. She felt as if she were still dreaming. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." The Anakin-imposter tapped his fingers on the table. "Look, I didn't come here to give my daughter a heart attack, get insulted by my son-in-law, or trade witticisms with a glorified card shark who thinks he's got brains enough to run Cloud City." Lando started violently at that comment. "You can prove my identity later - I'll submit to genetic testing, or neural scans, or even _fingerprinting_ if you want…but I _came_ here because my daughter is in danger, and I suggest you start listening to me if anybody else in the room cares about her life at all."

Han leapt up angrily. "Look here, you…whoever you are," he growled. "Are you threatening my wife?"

"Of course not!" the Anakin-imposter said impatiently. "But I'm not the only family member that's planning on dropping by sometime in the next twenty-four hours, so unless you'd like to have a happy family reunion in Coruscant at the Emperor's Palace, I _suggest_ we get her to safety."

"What are you talking about?" Leia demanded. "Who's coming?"

Anakin looked at her.

"I think your brother's planning on stopping by for a surprise visit soon," he said softly. "And honestly, I don't think you'll be nearly as happy to see him as he will be to see you."

Han and Leia exchanged a quick, worried look.

"Luke," Leia breathed.

**OoooOoooO**

Darth Eivel walked away from the crumpled form of the Jenuiite Center's director without a second glance, oblivious to the dark blood that washed the director's office. One hand was clenched, his fingernails digging into his palms until they bled. The other clutched the evidence of his father's betrayal with a fierceness that made the blood dripping from his palm seem insignificant.

He still couldn't believe…even with the evidence…how his father could abandon him and the Empire, after all that he had learned…

"My lord -" one of his officers began, running up behind him, and without a second thought Eivel lashed out with a razor-sharp whip of the Force and the Commander's head suddenly flew from his shoulders. The cleanly sliced stump gushed blood for a moment, the decapitated officer's legs taking several more steps before realizing the body they were attached to was already dead. The headless commander toppled to the floor. The other officers fell several steps behind him, silent.

Never before this day had Darth Eivel killed purely with the Force, and now he had done it twice in less than as many hours. It wasn't as difficult as he might have assumed - or as disturbing as he might have once thought.

In fact, it was strangely fulfilling. It allowed him to distance himself from the hideous betrayal his father had performed.

They made the trip back to the star destroyer in silence, Eivel himself piloting the small vessel as he had left the pilot's headless body on the planet behind him. It had been mere hours since he had woken, bound and gagged in his closet. Waiting for help hadn't been necessary…the force of his rage had allowed him to literally burst the door off his makeshift prison. News of the stormtroopers' discovery on the planet had been waiting for him when he stormed out of his quarters, furious at his humiliation and temporary incarceration. He kept the proof of Vader's treachery beside his seat, and he could feel the others' eyes carefully avoiding that evidence.

Captain Vesra was waiting for him at the doors when he exited the transport. Eivel immediately began moving towards the Imperial hangar.

"Captain!" he snapped at the officer behind him. Vesra hurried up to meet his furious pace.

"Y-yes, my lord?"

Eivel tried to control his irritation. Vesra was too good of a commander to waste. "Ready my personal starship. I will be heading to the Borunn system immediately."

"I will have the ship readied immediately, Lord Eivel."

"Send a message back to Coruscant…personal frequency of Emperor Palpatine," Eivel said grimly. He had seen the information the traitor had been looking at, and knew he had to hurry if he wanted to reach Leia first."Tell him that Darth Vader has turned traitor, and I am pursuing him personally."

Captain Vesra actually stumbled, gasping in surprise. "My lord, are you-"

Eivel whirled to face him, and the captain went white at the look Eivel directed at him. "Would I make something like that up?" he growled.

"N-n-no." Vesra swallowed loudly. "Of course not."

Eivel resumed his brisk pace.

"I will send directions to the fleet after I have confirmed Vader's destination," he said. Despite what had happened, he still wasn't going to risk Leia. Once he had her safely in his grasp, Eivel could send the fleet to destroy the Rebel base.

"Yes, my lord."

Eivel left the Captain behind him, Vesra letting him go with obvious relief. Eivel put him out of his mind easily. By the time he reached the Imperial hangar, several crewmen were already finishing up the starship's preparations - Vesra was, if nothing else, highly capable. He ignored them except for an irritated dismissal as he boarded the small Imperial starship. It was slightly smaller than the _Millennium Falcon_, but far more powerful, and with a lightspeed drive that was the product of the greatest technological minds the galaxy had to offer. Vader could not outrun him for long .

_No, not Darth Vader,_ Eivel thought darkly as he tossed the black mask onto the empty co-pilot's seat beside him. He glared at the respirator mask, its synthetic casing scorched but not destroyed by the Jenuiite's incinerators.

Darth Vader had been destroyed on the planet below him.

And so-on Darth Eivel's orders- had been the planet.

With an effort, Eivel dragged his eyes away from the mask that until recently had sustained his father's life and brought up the coordinates for the Borunn system.

"Course laid in," the computer chirped at him. He glanced down, making sure for one last time that everything was ready for departure.

The readout suddenly caught his eye, and a black smile crossed his face. _Clever, father, very clever._

Vader had tried to conceal his tracks by altering the coordinates…but he had underestimated the extensive flight training Eivel had been given, and the strength of Eivel's feelings for his sister. Those coordinates had been burned into his brain ever since he had first learned them several days earlier.

Darth Eivel entered the correct destination with a sense of dark satisfaction.

Vader didn't have nearly the amount of time he thought he did.

**End of Part 5**


	6. Chapter 6

**The Souls of Demons **

**_By Pyxelle_ **

**Chapter 6**

**OoooOoooO**

"You've got to have something better for the princess to travel in, at the very least." Anakin said in disbelief as Solo pushed him into a chair.

"Listen, pipsqueak, we lost a lot of ships at Endor," Solo snapped back, flipping a panel open and checking the gauges beneath it. "And if you are who you say you are, you'd know that the _Falcon's_ a lot tougher than she looks."

"Yes, but for _Leia-"_

"You got something better?"

Anakin sighed, glancing away from his angry son-in-law. "Not anymore," he muttered under his breath. The rebels had confiscated his ship and Arfive.

"Then why don't you shut up, like I've told you to – what? Four times already?"

Anakin was quickly coming to the conclusion that he really, truly didn't like his daughter's choice for a husband. He hadn't liked Captain Solo before, of course, but that had been a sort of general dislike, much like he had felt for the entire rebellion.

This was personal.

What in the galaxy could Leia see in this pirate? She had been raised a lady, privilege to all the luxuries and amenities Bail Organa's family could provide. How she had ended up marrying a piece of space-scum like Solo was beyond him. Leia deserved so much better than this uncouth rogue.

Suddenly Anakin felt a twinge of shame. He had been born no better, and really had no right to pass judgment. He had been birthed even lower than Solo, if the truth were to be told – a Tatooine slave, mere property until Qui-Gon had saved him. Anakin attempted to let his frustration subside.

He tried to sway Solo again.

"This is taking too long. It won't take Luke much time before he discovers the tampering in his navigation system, and if we leave now we should be able to put a good ten hours between us and him -"

"Listen, _Anakin_, we're not leaving until everyone gets off the planet safely," Solo shot at him. He sighed a little in defeat. "If I even suggested it, the wife would kill me."

"But we don't have enough _time-_"

"Chewie, take Mr. Mouth back to the hold, would you?" Solo's irritation finally got the better of him. "I can't take any more of his blabbering."

"Why, I-" Anakin was abruptly cut off by the Wookie roughly grabbing his arm. He looked up at the shaggy beast, undeterred by its fierce glare. Its alien face was made even more intimidating by the ragged scar that jutted across one eye, half-blinding him - a scar that Anakin knew had to have been received at the battle of Endor. He jerked away, and the Wookie growled.

"You don't have to get physical." Anakin said. He raised his hands, the wrists still bound in the magnetically sealed shackles. "I'm harmless. And I can walk perfectly fine."

"I'll take him, Chewie." Leia's voice came from around the corner, followed shortly by the beautiful princess herself. Anakin felt a wave of relief that she was still safe. Every minute they remained on this rocky planet was another minute Luke was drawing closer to them. "Just help Han finish the pre-flight procedures."

Anakin followed her lead obediently, noting with grim amusement the tight glance of disapproval Solo sent their way. His son-in-law said nothing, however. It seemed – to some degree, at least – that he realized that the spirited princess would not be an easy woman to control.

"Sit down." Leia ordered as they entered the hold. Anakin sat. She immediately began to lock the shackles to the bulkhead.

"We really can't afford this delay, Leia." Anakin said softly.

"And you really have no say in the matter," Leia said matter-of –factly, not meeting his eyes. She tapped in a security code on the shackles. "I'm not risking anyone coming back here and walking into an Imperial welcoming committee."

"So you believe me, then?" Anakin asked, one eyebrow shooting up.

Finally Leia's eyes met his. They were cold and hard, like silk drawn tightly over frozen steel. "I can't afford to ignore the possibility that Darth Eivel might know of this base," she said coolly. "Our forces are too small as it is."

"Ah." Anakin met her gaze levelly. "But what about me? Surely there are other ships better equipped for dealing with Imperial prisoners…why take custody of me yourself?"

Leia's face was unreadable. "I don't really know."

Anakin felt a strange sort of satisfaction. "You do believe me, don't you." It was a statement.

Leia stepped slightly away, a hint of anger entering that cold gaze. "Let's say I do," she said. "Just for a moment, lets say I believe you…" she reached into her belt pouch, and suddenly the Sith lightsaber they had confiscated from him blazed into life in her hand. She pointed it at his throat. "Then give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you here, right now."

Anakin's eyes remained steady, looking up at his daughter without fear. "I can't."

Leia stood there for a second longer, and for a moment Anakin believed she _was_ going to kill him…but then she sighed and the red blade blinked out of existence. "I can't think of one either," she said. "Except for the fact that I'd be heading down the same Dark path Luke did."

"I'm sorry, Leia." Anakin offered softly. "I know it doesn't mean much, but I _am_ sorry."

Leia tucked the lightsaber back into her pouch and sat down across from him. Curiosity began to touch her features. "Let's go on the idea that I do believe you…Anakin." Leia crossed her arms. "Somehow, lets say that my feelings tell me you aren't lying. I want to know…why in the galaxy did you come here?"

"I already told you that," Anakin reminded her. "To warn you."

"Yes, but you could have sent a message," Leia said, dismissing his easy answer. "You should have known that we couldn't afford to ignore such a warning. There was no reason for you to risk capture by coming down to the planet."

Anakin was silent for a moment. "I suppose…I suppose I came to train you."

Leia burst into startled laughter. "Train me? Are you joking?"

"Not in the least."

Leia's laughter faded. She stared at him intently.

"No," she said softly. "You're not joking, are you?"

Anakin let his calm expression speak for itself.

His daughter suddenly shrugged. "All right. I'll play along. You came to train me, of course, that makes sense…after all, there aren't any Jedi left, are there? Not even Luke, anymore."

"No."

Leia leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But before we begin…_father_…tell me how you did it."

Anakin shifted uncomfortably. "Did what?"

Leia's innocent demeanor vanished. "Don't play coy, _Anakin,"_ she snapped. "You know exactly what I mean. How did you turn Luke? How did you take my brother and turn him into Darth Eivel, the monster we all know and love today?"

Closing his eyes, Anakin tried to shut out the cold hatred he saw on his daughter's face. He had known he wouldn't be able to avoid revealing what had transpired that terrible day on the Deathstar, but he couldn't help wishing there would have been some way that it could have been possible. He opened his mouth…and promptly closed it.

Anakin simply couldn't find the words.

"_How?"_ Leia asked again, her voice rising. "_How did you do it?"_

"I don't think you really want to hear…"

"Oh, but I do." Leia sat back, and her eyes narrowed. "Believe me, I do."

Anakin knew that there would be no escaping Leia's questioning, and he reluctantly surrendered. "All right," he said helplessly. "I'll tell you."

And then Anakin began to tell his daughter about the day he had given his son's spirit – _her_ brother - to Darkness.

**OoooOoooO**

_**The Battle of Endor: Onboard the Deathstar**_

"Sister!" Vader said in triumph as he plucked the thought from Luke's mind. "So…you have a twin sister. Your feelings have now betrayed her, too. Obi-Wan was wise to hide her from me. Now his failure is complete." Vader turned slowly, letting his senses stretch, searching for Luke's next move. He was going to have to bait him in order to force him out…and the love that he felt for this sister was just what he needed to accomplish that. "If you will not turn to the Dark side, then perhaps _she_ will."

"_NEVER!" _Luke screamed in defiance, seeming to come out of nowhere. Vader thrust his lightsaber up, defending himself from the furious blows that his son rained down upon him. Behind them, the Emperor cackled as Vader was forced downwards, the power behind Luke's enraged attack overwhelming him. Finally there was a sensation, not pain, because a machine could not feel pain, but a sense of _loss_ as Luke struck Vader's hand from his arm. His mechanical hand tumbled down the power shaft, still clutching the Sith lightsaber in it as it disappeared.

"Good…" the Emperor praised Luke, his sadistic laugh echoing off the walls of the Deathstar. "Your hate has made you powerful. Now, fulfill your destiny, and take your father's place at my side!"

Luke was staring at Vader's arm in appalled wonder. He lifted his own hand, staring at the black-gloved prosthesis Vader knew had replaced the limb that he himself had severed from his son's body. A dawning horror rested on Luke's face.

And Vader suddenly knew that the Emperor had made a fatal mistake.

Luke's weakness wasn't his anger…it was his compassion. Darth Sidious should have remembered Anakin's own fall from grace. Luke was too much his mother's son.

Darth Vader knew that they had lost him.

Luke lifted his face, turning to the Emperor, a calm resolve filling his face…and then, abruptly, cried out in pain.

It wasn't his pain…Vader felt it too. It came from outside, from someone else…and suddenly Vader picked a name out of Luke's agonized thoughts.

_Leia_.

Princess Leia was Luke's sister.

Suddenly many things made a great deal more sense. Vader's difficulties in subduing the princess to his will…her resistance to the mechanical mind-probes … and the sheer force of will she radiated. Of course she was difficult to break. She had inherited Vader's gifts, just as Luke had.

And just as Luke did now, Vader could feel her pain…her fear…and could tell that she was dying.

"Obi-Wan lied about a great many things," Darth Vader said. Luke's love for Leia was where his _real_ weakness lay. "I feel her pain, Luke. Leia's pain. I can help save her…Obi-Wan never told you the real truths about his past…_our_ past."

Luke looked down at him, his face tight with an agony that was not his own.

"Obi-Wan was a great Jedi," Luke said firmly…but Vader could sense that he was shaken by his comment, and his voice still trembled at his sister's suffering. So Obi-Wan _had_ lied to him in the past. That was a weakness Vader could exploit.

Vader stood slowly. "Obi-Wan was a strong Jedi, that is true. But he was blinded by the corruption of the Jedi council. He had lost his principles, Luke. The downfall of the Jedi and the creation of the Empire saved the galaxy, my son. We would have been mired in endless civil war if the Jedi had been allowed to take over."

"I don't believe you." Luke said…but Vader could sense that the seed of doubt had been planted. His son's mind was clouded by his terror of Leia's death.

Now all Vader had to do was encourage that seed to grow.

"I can show you, my son." Vader said. "Obi-Wan and the other Jedi cared more for their own power than they did for the good of the galaxy. If I hadn't embraced the power of the Dark side and finally ended the Clone Wars, billions upon billions of lives would have been lost. There is a hard lesson that one must learn when one is given power – and that is that sometimes one must sacrifice everything, even their ideals, for the greater good."

"How can you say that?" Luke demanded. "The Dark side of the Force is evil, father. What good can come from it?"

"The Dark side is _power_, Luke, not evil." Vader said. "Evil is, itself, merely a point of view."

Again, Vader sensed that his comment had shaken Luke. Luke had come to the Deathstar without a plan, placing all of his faith in the belief that he could find a spark of Anakin Skywalker still alive in Darth Vader. His unshakeable trust in that belief would be the very thing to deliver his strong young son to the Dark side.

Luke had come here to resurrect the ghost of Anakin Skywalker…and so Darth Vader would _give_ him Anakin Skywalker.

"I promise you I do not lie," Vader said, and he did not intend to. The truth was far more powerful. Vader reached his remaining hand out and wrapped it around Luke's lightsaber gently, hooking it to his son's belt to show their fight was finished. He looked at his son, reaching out gently with his thoughts.

_My loyalties to the Emperor lie mired in my past and in the scars on my soul. I know you want to understand this, all of this, and I can show you how. All I have ever wanted was peace, and everything I've done has been for love._

Luke's eyes searched Vader, and the first touches of cautious trust entered them. Despite his better instincts, he wanted to believe.

"How can that be true?"

Vader spoke directly into Luke's mind, keeping his truthful intent prominent in his thoughts. _Let me explain, let me show you…it's hard to say in words why the Emperor holds my soul so tightly in his grasp. But if you understand, I _can_ help you, and help your sister…help Leia. We can save her, my son._

Luke's face smoothed. He didn't trust Vader, but he wanted to. That was what Vader had been relying on.

_Show me, father,_ Luke asked gently, his pain for his sister making him want to believe there was hope…. _I want to know. _

Vader kept his mind wide, weeding through every memory he had that would show Luke his history, every recollection that could convince his pure-hearted son that his words were true…

_Memories whirled around them, hazy and indistinct at first, flickering in their shared consciousness… the harshness of slavery on Tatooine_

(flicker)

_his mother's warm face, a face that held a tale of too many sorrows_

(flicker)

_the first glimpses of the woman who would come to mean more than life to Anakin Skywalker (are you an angel?)_

(flicker)

_the funeral pyre that consumed the mortal shell of Qui-Gon Jinn, who had taken a young slave boy and given him hope_

(flicker)

…_Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker's minds melding, understanding, becoming one…flicker…flicker…flicker…_

_Obi-Wan knelt next to Anakin. The newly anointed padawan looked up at him, his eyes graver than his nine years warranted. "Qui-Gon believed I was this Chosen One?" Anakin couldn't help the worry that invaded his voice. "Master Obi-Wan, I don't feel any different than the other children. Why me?"_

"_I know it is a great weight to bear for so small a person, Anakin, but a great gift. Qui-Gon believed in you. I believe in you, too. I will not abandon you, whatever the cost." Obi-Wan offered Anakin a small smile. "But special gifts carry special burdens, and your training will be even more strenuous than what most padawans have to endure. The Chosen One cannot afford to falter, and you have lost too many years of training already. But I swear to you, my very young apprentice, when the time comes you will be ready."_

"_What if I can't?" Anakin asked, overwhelmed. "I don't want to disappoint you, Master Obi-Wan…but what if I fail?"_

_Obi-Wan put one gentle hand on his shoulder. "You won't fail, my young padawan. You will be a great Jedi, and I promise you, you won't fail."_

(flicker)

_Master Yoda looked at twelve-year-old Anakin sternly. " Great fear I sense in you, young Skywalker. Always thinking about the now, you are. Never to the future do you look." He tapped his staff on the ground several times for emphasis. "Fleeting are the pleasures of the moment. Aware of the present you must be, but of the future you _must_ be mindful. On whether you are the Chosen One, my own counsel I will keep. But Master Obi-Wan believes. Fail him, you _must_ not."_

_(flicker)_

_Anakin barely felt the bonds that held his hands behind his back. All he could feel was the crushing hope that he heard what Padme had just said correctly. _

"_You love me?" His voice was cracking with emotion, but he didn't care. "I thought we had decided not to fall in love. That we would be forced to live a lie. That it would destroy our lives."_

_Padme seemed on the verge of tears. "My love for you is a puzzle, Ani, for which I have no answers. I can't control it…and now I don't care. I truly, deeply love you…and before we die, I wanted you to know." She reached her head up and he touched his lips to hers, and his soul soared as they shared one soft, tender kiss that held all their hidden passion…_

(flicker)

_Master Windu sighed. "Anakin, you are too reckless. If you do not begin to reflect on your actions, you will never be able to face the trials."_

_Anakin looked at him in shock. "Master, you're not rejecting me for knighthood, are you? Obi-Wan says he can teach me no more, that I am strong enough-"_

"_Strength in the Force is but one small part of becoming a Jedi." Windu said severely. "Your emotions betray you. A Jedi does not have room in his mind for distractions from our duties…not for fear, not for hate, not for anger. You must learn to control your passion! I sense difficult times ahead for you, as you begin entering manhood…the call of the flesh and of the heart will tempt you, and a Jedi cannot indulge in them…not even for love."_

(flicker)

_"Ani, I'm pregnant."_

_Anakin's eyes widened, a crazed tumult of emotions crashing through him. Fear over their marriage being exposed, worry about expulsion from the Jedi Order…but most of all, a cautious elation. He was going to be a father! "That's…that's wonderful."_

_"Anakin, what are we going to do?"_

_He smiled at her gently. _

"_We're not going to worry about it right now. This is a happy moment, Padme." Anakin said softly, letting go of his fears for the moment. "The happiest moment of my life."_

(flicker)

_"You're asking me to spy on the Chancellor?" Anakin asked incredulously. "That's treason!"_

_"We are at war, Anakin," Obi-Wan said._

_Anakin was silent for a moment. " Why didn't the Council give me this assignment when we were in session?"_

_"This assignment is not to be on record," Obi-Wan told him, his reluctance obvious in his voice. "The Council asked me to approach you on this personally."_

_"The Chancellor is not a bad man, Obi-Wan," Anakin said. How could Obi-Wan condone this blatant disregard of the Jedi vows? "He befriended me. He's watched out for me ever since I arrived here."_

_"That is why you must help us, Anakin." Obi-Wan said earnestly. "Our allegiance is to the Senate, not to its leader, who has managed to stay in office long after his term has expired."_

_"The Senate demanded he stay longer," Anakin reminded him._

_"Yes, but use your feelings, Anakin. Something is out of place."_

_Anakin walked to the window, trying very hard not to let his anger with Obi-Wan show. Was his Master losing his commitment to the principles of the Republic? It seemed the whole Jedi Council had begun to care more for their own power than the good of the galaxy. "You're asking me to do something against the Jedi Code. Against the Republic. Against a mentor . . . and a friend. That's what's out of place here." He looked at Obi-Wan, hoping to see that his friend, his teacher, and the only father he had ever known realized what exactly he was asking Anakin to disregard. _

_His conscience._

_"Why are you asking this of me?"_

_Obi-Wan regarded him gravely. "The Council is asking you."_

(flicker)

_"Anakin, pull up! Pull up, I'm telling you!"_

_Anakin heard Obi-Wan's frantic voice, but he didn't obey immediately. "It's all right, Master, I have everything under control."_

_"Anakin, you're going to get yourself killed!"_

_"I don't think so." Anakin swung the fighter down, for all intents and purposes appearing as if he was going to ram the Separatist battleship in a suicidal run. Too many other fighters had been brought down by this beast, and the war was once again getting ever closer to Coruscant…and Padme. His visions of her death haunted him, and Anakin knew he would never allow the war to reach her._

_Battle had already reached Coruscant once. He would not allow it to do so again._

_"Anakin, I am giving you an order to PULL UP!"_

_Finally he was in range. He shot his last missile, literally mere meters from the battleship cockpit's windows, and then violently yanked on the controls. His fighter angled upwards sharply, the force of the blast at first concealing his craft and then propelling him at breakneck speed out of the range of the Separatist vessel. When he had cleared the blast, he swept across the sky to meet back up with Obi-Wan's fighter._

_"Yes, Master," Anakin said pleasantly. "Sorry if I had you worried for a moment there."_

_"Anakin, you're insane." Obi-Wan said, but there was a hint of relieved humor in his voice as they both watched the Separatist vessel begin to explode from the inside out. Anakin felt a vicious contentment at its destruction. The war was much too close to the heart of the Republic, and he could not allow it to reach Padme and their unborn child. He would die first – as so many billions already had due to the horrors of the Clone Wars._

_"Maybe, Master, but at least I'm useful."_

_Anakin could hear Obi-Wan's laugh over the commlink. "Anakin, I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again…you are going to be the death of me."_

(flicker)

"_Love won't save you, Padme." Anakin's voice was resolute. "Only my new powers can do that."_

"_But at what cost?" Padme asked, and Anakin could see a panicked fear in her eyes. "You're a good person, Anakin. Don't do this."_

"_I won't lose you the way I lost my mother. I've become more powerful than any Jedi has ever dreamed of, and I've done it all for you. To protect you." Anakin had to make Padme comprehend that these were _not_ the actions of a bad person. She had to!_

"_Come away with me," she begged, pulling at him frantically. "Help me raise our child. Leave everything else behind while we still can!"_

"_Don't you see? We don't have to run anymore!" Anakin said earnestly. He had to make her see that the Jedi had been planning to bring ruin to the galaxy. Had to make her realize that there would be security, and peace, and justice for them in the future…no more wars, no more plotting… "I have brought peace to the Republic. I am more powerful than the Chancellor. I can overthrow him." He could hear his voice rising in excitement. "And together you and I can rule the galaxy. Make things the way we want them to be."_

_Padme began to back away, her face falling in disbelief. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. Obi-Wan was right. You've changed." Anakin could hear her voice trembling. " I don't know you anymore."_

"_I don't want to hear any more about Obi-Wan," Anakin said, anger mounting. Padme kept moving away, and he could sense her fear. A fear of him. That wasn't what was supposed to happen! She had listened to the lies of the Jedi, and she was allowing them to poison her mind. It was blinding her to the fact that Anakin had brought peace to the galaxy and had ended the war that had claimed so very, very many lives with one decisive action._

"_Anakin, you're breaking my heart." Padme began to weep. "You're going down a path I can't follow."_

_"Because of Obi-Wan…" Anakin said, and for the first time a dark hatred began to grow at the sound of his former Master's name…_

(flicker)

" _You were the Chosen One!" Obi-Wan's voice was anguished, but Anakin's agony overwhelmed him and he barely noticed. "It was said you were to destroy the Sith,_ _not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness."_

"_I hate you!" Anakin screamed. Obi-Wan had turned Padme against him! He had taken his love and poisoned her mind with lies so that Padme had looked at him with fear instead of love, revulsion instead of passion…he could never, ever forgive him for that. His hatred was hotter than the molten lava that was burning his life away._

"_You were my brother, Anakin." Obi-Wan's voice cracked. "I loved you." _

_But he didn't, Anakin knew, and when Obi-Wan turned away to leave him to die a agonizing and fiery death, he realized that Obi-Wan had never cared for him…he had always been just a pawn in the Jedi plots…_

flicker

_The pain was excruciating, but Anakin pushed it away." Where is Padme? Is she safe?" The pain didn't matter, as long as Padme was safe. His life was unimportant. "Is she…all right?"_

_The Emperor stepped forward and spoke slowly. "It seems…that in your anger…you killed her."_

_"No! She was alive! I felt it!" It couldn't be…he had struck out in anger, but Anakin would never…Obi-Wan! He had stolen her away from him, had taken her from him before he could use his new powers to save her…Obi-Wan had condemned her to death when he had betrayed Anakin. "No!"_

_(And Luke witnessed the last screams of Anakin Skywalker, his father and hero, as Anakin realized that all he had sacrificed had been for nothing, and that his beloved, cherished wife was gone from him forever, taken from him by the one he had trusted above all others…and these screams made his agony on the shore of that molten lake seem mild in comparison…)_

Vader let Luke linger a moment longer, allowing all the sorrow, all the regret, all the passion he had felt burn itself into Luke's mind…and then he pulled away.

When Luke's eyes met his face, tears streamed down his son's cheeks. A pang of regret stung Vader briefly that he had caused Luke's pain, surprising him, but he easily pushed it away with all of the other memories he had allowed Luke to unearth. It was done. He didn't need to dwell on a dead past in the solitude of his own mind. This had been for Luke's benefit alone.

"I didn't know…" Luke whispered.

"Can you still say that I am evil?" Vader asked. He could feel Luke's confusion, and his fear that he had been terribly misled. The memories had affected him deeply, and suddenly his point of view wasn't so clear anymore. From what he had seen, the Jedi were not the benevolent defenders of justice as he had thought they were…they were mortal – flawed, like all others.

"Oh, Obi-Wan…" Luke said, staring off into the distance. Vader tried not to show the surge of rage he felt at hearing that name from his son's lips. "Why didn't you tell me? How could you have lied to me? _How could you have left him there to die like that!"_

There was, of course, no answer.

Vader could feel the anger Luke felt at the revelation that Obi-Wan, who had achieved near god-like status in his mind, had left Anakin alone in the ashes to die. The hatred that kindled at the realization that this man, a man who had personified good in Luke's mind, had performed such a heartless, cruel act. He could sense Luke's fear that he may have been deceived, that there were other things Obi-Wan had not told him – or had not trusted him with. And finally Luke comprehended that for all his sins, Anakin had believed he was doing it out of love and commitment to the principles he had held – and that love, especially, could never be called evil.

In the farthest reaches of his vision, Vader saw the Emperor smile.

"Obi-Wan was a man, Luke." Vader said softly. "Flawed, as all men are. He could not cope with the growing corruption in the Jedi Council and refused to see it. They had abandoned their principles…become arrogant and detached. They had been revered almost as gods…but even gods can fall."

Luke's anger was growing…but this time, it was not an anger towards Vader or the Emperor…but an anger towards the man he had placed all his faith in…and that same man who had kept the full truth hidden from his view.

"_Why did you lie to me!" _Luke screamed, and Vader sensed his son seizing the Dark side for the first time as he threw his lightsaber away, hurling it into the recesses of the chamber. _"You never told me ANY OF THIS! How could you have betrayed him? How could you have allowed my mother to DIE?"_

Vader knew that they had won. The Dark side was pulsing in his son's aura, and Luke's grief was blinding him to it even as his anger fueled it.

"He didn't _understand_, Luke…" Darth Vader said. "But I do. I have never lied to you. And I will help you save your sister…save Leia."

Luke's eyes traveled to his face, a wild fury surging in them that he could not hide. "I won't let Leia die…I can't…"

Finally, the Emperor rose from his chair.

"Only now, at the end, do you understand…my young apprentice…" he stood over the two of them like some ancient god come to collect the souls of the dead. "Join us, or you and your sister will never survive…and it will be through your actions that her death is ensured."

Luke collapsed to his knees. "Please …"

"She need not die, my son," Vader said, "and neither need you. Your death will change nothing. The life you could live will change everything."

"But you must choose, young Skywalker." The Emperor said harshly. "Choose, or she will die."

"No!" Luke half-growled in response. "I won't let that happen!"

"You have no other choice, Luke," Vader said almost gently. "Are you so certain of Obi-Wan's teachings that you will rest her life in his hands?"

_"No!"_ Luke snarled, the anger over his revelation still brightly burning in his mind. His face filled with shock as he seemed to realize what that meant. It washed away some of the anger, and Luke's head dropped as he shifted to one knee.

"I can't..." he whispered, almost as if he were speaking to someone else, "…just please, don't let her die …please."

Vader felt a strange sort of pain at his son's submission.

_I will do whatever you ask…just help me save Padme's life. __I can't live without her._

"So you will swear to my teachings and to the Empire …to keep the atrocities of the Clone Wars from ever happening again…even at the cost of your precious guilt?"

Luke looked up…and Vader found he was actually chilled to see the fury and hatred his son had taken refuge in. The Sith Lord could feel Luke's grief consumed by darker emotions, and suddenly remembered how they had made his own grief easier when he had chosen this same path. The aura of his son's power swelled as Luke let himself fill with the Dark side for the first time, and his eyes glowed even through the silvery tracks his tears still left on his face…once one embraced the Dark side for the first time, its power quickly consumed you.

"I so swear…I won't be lied to any longer."

**OoooOoooO**

_Crack!_

Anakin's head rocked back at the solid slap Leia gave him, his cheek burning. She looked down at him in helpless anger.

"You…you used me…used his love for _me…_and his compassion…to destroy him…?" she whispered, seeming to hardly believe it. Anakin found he could not meet her gaze. "You took his _purity,_ his _conscience,_ his …his _love…_ and twisted them to deceive him…" She didn't seem to be able to contain her rage, and she slapped him again.

Anakin simply let her.

"You'd better hope you _are_ just some deluded lunatic," Leia breathed, her voice carrying a heavy and determined weight. "Because if you aren't, and all that you've told me is true, I _will_ kill you myself."

Leia whirled on her heels and stormed from the hold, letting the doors close and lock with an ominous _boom_! behind her. Anakin dropped his head, and a single sob escaped him.

She was right. He deserved to die.

_Obi-Wan, it's too much. I can't do this._ Anakin thought into the silence of the hold. _How am I supposed to save Leia and lead Luke back into the Light after all that I've already done?_

There was no answer, but Anakin's head snapped up sharply all the same. A familiar cold tingle tickled his senses, and a fear burst into life within him. They had waited too long.

Darth Eivel was here.

**End of Part 6**

**This part was _INCREDIBLY_ hard to write. Luke's fall, obviously, is the crux of this story, and I didn't want to deny it justice by just having him succumb to anger. So…please, please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Luke Skywalker's fall, and the method through which it happened, is most likely going to be the most controversial part of this story, regardless of what people think of the rest of it.**

**  
Pyxelle **


	7. Chapter 7

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters, worlds, or races. I am making no money from this work, nor do I claim ownership of anything other than the story. This work is purely for enjoyment. So, enjoy!_

**SPOILER ALERT! This takes elements from all 6 movies. Be forewarned if you have yet to see _Revenge of the Sith_ **

**Categories: **Action/Adventure/Sci-fi/Angst

**Primary Characters: **

_Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader _

_Luke Skywalker/Dark! Luke_

_Princess Leia_

_Han Solo_

**The Souls of Demons **

_**By Pyxelle**_

**Chapter 7**

"Everything all right back there?"

Leia nodded. "Fine."

Han didn't really believe her. Leia's eyes were too strained, and her lips were pressed together tightly as if she were trying to keep from crying. Not for the first time that day Han wished that she hadn't insisted on bringing their mysterious prisoner with them on the _Falcon_.

She leaned over his shoulder, and Han could smell the light floral scent she always wore.

"How's evac going?" she asked.

"All right." Han tried to keep his concentration on the task at hand. Leia's nearness always sent him a little off-balance. "Dena's closing up Ground Control now, and all the other ships have left the planet."

Leia nodded thoughtfully. Dena Beratt would be heading to the Vegalles system on the _Falcon_ with them. "Any stragglers still in the system – ships or scouts or anything?"

"Let me check." Han flipped the comm switch. "Hey, Dena…"

"Yeah, Han?" Dena's voice had a musical lilt to it even over the commlink. She didn't often bother to use titles, so unless she was bringing in an unknown ship Han rarely heard her refer to him as "general-" not that he really minded. He hadn't ever really gotten used to the rank, although he was one of the most prominent leaders of the Rebellion now. Dena Beratt herself was the fourth daughter of a previously ruling Clan on Ryloth, but the exotically beautiful Twi'lek woman had opted to leave the planet when another family came into power. She didn't talk about her past much, but it was obvious that titles meant little to her – and that _earning_ respect meant much.

Han liked her. "Any stragglers left in the system?"

"No…yes…actually, I'm not sure." Dena sounded frustrated.

Han frowned. "You're not sure?"

"Well, Wedge's ship is still unaccounted for, but he's not due back for another week…so I guess we'll have to hope he gets the message we sent out."

"I know that," Han said. Wedge Antilles was on a mission into Imperial Space, one that was highly classified…one that Dena - or anyone other than Han, Leia, and Lando, for that matter - knew very little about. Han definitely didn't want to discuss it. "So what's the problem?"

"Well…I got _something_ earlier on long range sensors. Looked like it was heading towards Main Base…but then it disappeared. At first I thought it might be a ship, but I didn't get an electrical signature. Might have been an asteroid. By the Ninth Ring of Hell, it could've been a sensor ghost…lord knows with all the sudden ship activity, I wouldn't be surprised if the computers were getting twitchy." Dena's irritation was clear even through the commlink. "Whatever it was, I lost it about twenty minutes ago."

"So…" Han was a little confused. "I still don't understand…what's the problem? Sounds like a sensor ghost to me. If it _was_ one of our ships, they would have hailed us by now…and if it wasn't, we would have picked them up on short-range sensors. Even a small asteroid would have registered on short-range."

"I know, and maybe I'm just being paranoid…but I've got a bad feeling about it."

Leia and Han exchanged a quick glance.

"Luke?" Leia ventured, biting her lip.

"Well…if it was, we should have picked up an electrical signature." Han tried to assure her, but he could tell it wasn't working…probably because he wasn't convinced himself. "And our guest said that Luke shouldn't show up for another eight hours or so…"

"He might have been wrong," Leia said.

Han didn't hesitate. They couldn't afford to risk it. "Dena?" He said into the comm.

"Yes?"

"Get your things and get over here now. We're leaving."

"But I haven't finished –"

"Don't worry about wiping the rest of the memory banks. Our destination isn't in there, right?"

"Of course not-"

"Then it doesn't matter," Han told her firmly. "If that _wasn't_ a sensor ghost, then we need to get the hell out of here."

**OoooOoooO**

_"Code 6788. Repeat, Borunn Province – Evacuation Code 6788."_

Eivel switched off the comm system. The comm frequency the Emperor had sent him along with Leia's coordinates worked as well has he had expected…but he didn't really need to listen to any more of the message. It had gone on repeat nearly a minute ago, and he had no reason to believe a live feed would come back on. He didn't know exactly where "_Code 6788"_ was sending the Rebels to, but he was familiar enough with Alliance procedure to know that it was probably just a rendezvous point they would gather at before grouping at another base.

He checked the passive scans on the readout of his darkened cockpit. There seemed to be minimal activity on the planet below, and virtually no ship activity in the surrounding area. Nearly all the ships were gone now. Just moments ago he had watched around a dozen vessels go to lightspeed not fifty kilometers from where his starship hovered, hidden by the moon and by the dampening field installed on his ship. The dampening field wasn't a true cloaking device by any means – the Empire hadn't yet discovered a way to make that technology viable – but for a small ship like his, if all non-essential systems had their power cut, it allowed the ship to be nearly invisible to sensors…and by the time one could physically see it, it would usually be too late. Not very useful for battle, because having the weapons powered up would nullify the field…but for Eivel's purposes here and now, it was perfectly adequate.

If he hadn't felt Leia's presence still on the planet, Eivel would have believed he had arrived too late…but she was still on the surface. He could feel her. That would be just like Leia – she wouldn't feel secure in the knowledge that all of her people were safe unless she personally oversaw their evacuation.

Eivel closed his eyes. He was going to need to restart the engines and bring up the shields in order to enter the atmosphere and to land, which would obviously allow the _Falcon_ or Ground Control to pick him up on sensors…unless, of course, their attention was diverted.

And there was only one mind he was sure he could touch from this distance.

_I'm sorry, Leia._ Darth Eivel thought with a distant sort of regret.

And then Darth Eivel created a reality of pain.

**OoooOoooO**

"_Leia!"_

Leia couldn't respond to Han's shouting of her name other than the nearly soundless scream she was already feeling tear from her throat. _Oh, by all the gods, it HURTS!_ The thought barely formed in her mind before another wave of agony washed it away, and dimly she realized she was falling from the co-pilot's seat onto the floor. There was a dull _thud_. She realized that noise was her head striking the metal of the flooring, but if that ache added to her suffering she could barely tell. Her entire body was screaming out in a terrified cacophony of pain.

"_Chewie! Get Dena in here NOW!"_ Han screamed wildly, falling to his knees down next to her and trying to cradle her in his arms. Against her will, Leia felt her back arching, her arms and legs thrashing so that Han could barely keep from dropping her. Her body felt as if it wasn't her own, as if some malignant spirit had taken up residence in her flesh in order to subject her to the horrors of whatever hell it had escaped from. _What's happening?_ She wanted to cry out, but her tortured throat seemed unable to stop forming the tormented screams that echoed throughout the cockpit of the _Millennium Falcon._

_I'm sorry, Leia._

The thought came to her as clearly as the resigned resolution its sender felt. _Luke!_ _Oh, gods, no… Luke's here!_ She wanted to warn Han, wanted to shriek out the need to escape this planet, but she found the agony wouldn't even allow her to meet his eyes for more than a fleeting moment. Her thoughts kept flitting away from her, chased away by the wrenching pains that wracked her body, and the closest she could come to forming words was to slow the screaming and instead force out a sort of gasping retch.

"_DENA! CHEWIE!" _Han screamed again. Chewbacca came tearing in, growling a frantic sound and shaking his fists when he saw her writhing on the floor. Dena was shortly behind him. The Twi'lek woman stopped with a gasp, one hand going to her left lekku, grabbing the elaborately tattooed tentacle in a frightened gesture.

"Han, what happened?" Dena's voice shook with shock as she dropped down beside Leia. Leia tried desperately to meet her friend's worried violet eyes, but she found she couldn't control the spastic movement of her head long enough to do so. _Luke's here!_ She tried to shout again, but only that terrible, retching gasp came out. _Darth Eivel is HERE!_

"I don't know, she just collapsed." Han held her tightly, though Leia could still feel herself convulsing in his arms. "She's having some sort of seizure…I'm not a doctor!"

Leia felt Han's voice being drowned out by her agony. One last, desperate thought entered her mind…if Luke was here, they had to escape…

_Father!_

**OoooOoooO**

_Father!_

Anakin pulled uselessly against the shackles. He could hear Leia in his mind, and he knew that Luke was drawing closer. He had to get out of this cell! The Dark side beckoned to him, reminding him how easily he could shatter the silvery harnesses that chained him to the bulkhead. It would take only a moment, and he would be free, able to stop his daughter's mind-numbing pain…

No!

_Calm…peace…_Anakin stopped yanking on the shackles. Leia's tortured thoughts still taunted him, reminding him what he was leaving her to endure…but he had to start behaving as a Jedi if he didn't want to save her from pain only to lead her into damnation. _Serenity…_

Breathe…in…out…in…out…breathe…breathe…breathe…

A whisper-thin trickle of the Force flowed into him, through his hands…and the magnetic locks on the shackles popped open with a barely audible _click_. Anakin stood, trying to maintain the fragile peace he had found with the Force, and waved his hand gently at the door.

It slid open with a quiet hiss.

Anakin didn't have time to take pride in the fact that he had resisted the Dark side. He ran towards the cockpit, feeling Leia's body twist and her muscles wrench almost as if he were the one under this mental and physical assault. She should not have been so vulnerable, as someone with her inherent abilities should have been more than capable of warding off such a vicious attack…but she had the benefit of absolutely no training. Leia was completely unprepared for what the Emperor was teaching his young protégé to do.

"Leia!" Anakin shouted as he ran into the cockpit. Solo was crouched next to the pilot's chair, half-cradling his daughter in his arms, desperately trying to keep Leia's seizures from throwing her onto the floor. A blue-skinned Twi'lek and the Wookiee were behind him, the Twi'lek kneeling and helping to restrain the princess's flailing limbs.

"What's happening to her?" Solo shouted at him, his eyes wild. In his terror it didn't seem to register that Anakin had escaped from his cell. "_What did you do to her?"  
_"It's Luke," Anakin said, crouching down quickly and putting one hand on his daughter's head. He had never been very good with the Healing aspects of the Force, but he had been fairly capable with personal shielding. Still, Luke should never have been able to affect another Jedi the way he was affecting Leia. Even without training, she should have been able to keep him from so personally invading her body and mind.

But then again, Luke and Leia were twins…and the children of the Chosen One. Anakin Skywalker was supposed to have been the most powerful Jedi the Order had ever known. Who knew just what his children's limits were…or how closely related their minds might be?

"Get this ship off the ground," Anakin ordered, directing the comment towards Chewbacca. He knew Solo wouldn't leave his wife, but they needed to get this ship going now. The Wookiee growled an affirmative response before heading towards the controls.

"_What's happening to her!" _Solo looked as if he could kill Anakin through the sheer fury in his eyes. Anakin tried to ignore his hate-filled glare.

"Luke is trying to distract us," Anakin said, stroking Leia's hair and slowing his breathing. _Calm…peace…serenity…_ "We need to get off this planet, now."

"Distract us!" Solo's voice climbed half an octave. "He's trying to kill her so he can _distract us!"_

"She's not in any danger of dying," Anakin said, trying to drown out the background noises of Solo's frantic words, the Wookiee's hurried attempts to get the ship off the ground, and Leia's own half-screams of pain. Only the Twi'lek woman seemed to understand his need for quiet. She held Leia's hand, allowing her own hand to move along with Leia's writhing form but otherwise being as still and silent as Anakin.

"Like hell-"

"Please, Captain Solo." Anakin was surprised, but that was all it took for the rugged rebel general to quiet. He really loved his wife, and Anakin could sense that he knew that Anakin wanted to help her, even if his son-in-law didn't fully trust him… _calm… peace…in…out…_

Leia's limbs slowed, their frantic movements fading until only an occasional twitch remained. Her skin was covered in a light film of sweat, and her breath came in short, hitching gasps. Anakin continued to project a feeling of calm onto her, letting his aura mingle with hers, erecting shields around her mind that she should have been taught how to create herself long ago.

The Wookiee made a warbling half-growl. Anakin had never understood Wookiees all that well, but he managed to make out that Chewbacca had lifted off and they were going to be exiting the atmosphere.

Leia's breathing was finally starting to become regular. Around the edges of their shared shield, Anakin could feel Luke probing, testing the strength of the barrier, and he could sense his son's frustration that he had been thwarted in his attempts to break Leia.

His daughter's eyes flickered open, and they immediately sought out Solo. "Han…Luke…" her voice was nearly silent, and the words sounded raw from the screams she had been helpless to. "Luke's here…got to…"

"Shh…." Solo rocked her in his arms, looking near tears in his relief. "Don't talk, sweetheart, we're already gone. Chewie's already exited the atmosphere."

"He wants_ me_, Han…that's why he waited…"

"Don't worry…" Solo pulled Leia onto his lap more fully. "You're safe, sweetheart. You're safe…"

And then the ship rocked as the first blast shook the _Falcon._

**OoooOoooO**

Darth Eivel swung the starship down, narrowly avoiding the _Falcon's _return fire. The _Erebus,_ Eivel's own ship, was really in no danger from the weapons the _Falcon_ boasted, despite Han's ambitious and often illegal modifications. State of the art shielding technology and an impressive array of both ship-to-ship weaponry and ship-to-ground missiles made the black-hued _Erebus_ a fitting tribute to its long-forgotten namesake.

Another barrage of short fire rained on him from the _Falcon, _and Eivel's fingers danced over the controls as he evaded the attack deftly. The _Erebus_ flipped, spinning in an ever-tightening corkscrew as it neared the freighter. Eivel held his fire, letting the _Falcon's_ attacks whip past him as he drew closer and closer to the underside of the other ship…

_Fire! _Even without checking his readouts, Eivel knew he had scored a direct hit on the _Falcon's_ shielding generator. He flew underneath the freighter, angling around almost lazily, and targeted the remaining weapons' systems. He knew Han's ship almost as well as he knew his own. _One…two…three…four!_

Each of the four main weapon reactors exploded in a tightly controlled burst of flame before the vacuum of space dissipated the scant fuel that powered their destruction. Eivel deliberately avoided firing on the laser turrets themselves, aiming rather at the generators behind them…after all, if he had fired on the turrets he would have most likely caused a serious hull breach.

And that was most definitely not his plan. Leia was still on that ship.

The _Falcon_ turned clumsily, venting plasma, and Eivel knew that Han was going to try and escape through lightspeed. It was a predictable move, if a foolish one. Han had to know that Eivel's ship was virtually undamaged by their one-sided fight, and he wasn't stupid enough to think that Eivel wouldn't be able to follow them through hyperspace.

But he _was_ stubborn enough to try.

Eivel flipped the commlink switch, hailing the _Falcon. _He could still sense Leia on board, her presence nearly hidden by the traitor's shields but his link to her still tenuously there. She was still recovering from his failed assault on her, but she would be all right. Eivel hadn't been trying to hurt her, after all, in fact he had been trying to avoid this battle altogether.

But he supposed that hadn't worked out quite the way he had wanted.

Eivel tapped the commlink again, staying just within range and keeping his forward laser cannons targeted on the _Falcon's_ hyperdrive. He could sense Leia's fear, just barely seeping through the shields that protected her, and he didn't like it. He hadn't wanted to hurt her, but she had been the most vulnerable, and even if his tactics had failed it _had_ been his best bet at distracting them long enough for him to get to the planet. If that traitor hadn't helped her, Eivel would have had his sister at his side by now and they could have been heading back to Coruscant within the hour.

Eivel may have sacrificed much over the last year, but the one thing he could never quite let go of was his sister's memory. Even if she hadn't have been such a powerful potential asset to the Empire, Darth Eivel would have pursued her. She was his sister, his twin, the other half of him…and despite her fear, Eivel knew that Leia needed him in her life just as much as he needed her.

Finally the commlink burst into life. The vidscreen before him filled, and suddenly Eivel could see Han's cold eyes boring through him over the electronic link. He couldn't see who was beside him, but he could hear a soft hiccupping off-screen…probably Leia. He felt a vague sort of guilt at the thought that he had caused her pain, but he easily rationalized it away. Leia belonged with him, belonged with one who knew her powers, could share her gifts and teach her the glories of her birthright. She would learn, as he had, what her amazing gifts could accomplish…and what splendors they entitled her to.

Darth Eivel smiled warmly. "Heya, Han. How're you doing?"

**OoooOoooO**

"What do you want?"

Luke's expression became injured, but Anakin could easily see that it didn't touch his son's eyes. "Well, that's not a very nice way to greet an old friend…and your brother-in-law."

"No, its not, is it?" Solo agreed readily. "What do you want?"

"I was a little hurt that I wasn't invited to the wedding," Luke said, a note of almost genuine disappointment entering his voice. "I am Leia's brother, after all-"

"What do you want, Luke?"

The smile vanished from Luke's face. Anakin knew he hated to be called by his given name, but he also knew that Solo and Leia refused to call him Darth Eivel. Whether that was an indication of their faith Luke would someday return to them or a foolhardy way to anger the Sith Lord was something Anakin hadn't determined yet.

"Is Leia all right?"

Solo frowned, and Anakin could tell that the question had set the Rebel general off-balance. "She's fine."

"She doesn't feel fine." Luke said, biting his lip and his eyes going momentarily far away. Anakin had to truly admire his son's technique. If he didn't know better, he would have guessed that Luke was feeling actual worry. "Can I see her?"

"No." His son-in-law didn't even pause for reflection.

"Why not?"

Solo looked at the vidscreen incredulously. "You even have to ask?"

"Of course I have to ask," Luke said, a look of hurt crossing his face. "Look, Han, I called off the attack on _you._ No offense to the _Falcon_ and all, but you're pretty much sitting ducks right now. If I had wanted to pick you off, I could have."

"Thanks so much for not blowing up my ship," Solo said sarcastically. "I'll keep that in mind next time I run into you and feel like blasting _you_ out of the sky."

"That's not fair, Han." Luke leaned back in his seat, his face pained, looking like a little boy whose best friend had just deserted him. "I came out here because Leia's in danger. Don't you think that if I really wanted to, I could've taken this pathetic little base? Come on, Han, don't be stupid! I didn't bring any Imperial Star Destroyers for a reason. I don't want any of you to get hurt, I never did - especially not Leia."

"Could've fooled me," Solo growled.

Luke leaned forward, his eyes widening. "Han, what happened? Leia's _not_ all right, is she…"

_Clever, Luke, very clever._ Anakin saw Solo's eyes flicker to him. Luke was redirecting Solo's attention, making him think that _Anakin_ may have been responsible for Leia's episode.

"You don't know?"

"No, I don't know…" Luke shook his head in exasperation. "Look, Han, we've had a prisoner escape…and I think he's after Leia. If he hasn't tried to contact you yet, he will…and believe me, he's far more dangerous than I am."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe," Solo retorted.

"I want to see her," Luke said firmly. "I won't believe she's all right unless I see her, Han, so –"

Anakin saw Leia push Solo slightly aside.

"I'm all right, Luke," she said softly into the vidscreen. Aside from the sweat and the wisps of hair that had fallen from her braids, she looked calm and composed. Anakin felt a measure of pride at his daughter's strength. "I've been better, but I've been worse. Satisfied?"

"Leia," Luke breathed, and a startled, somehow beautiful smile bloomed on his face. "Oh, I've missed you."

Anakin could feel the grief Leia felt at hearing those words from her brother. The depth of emotion she felt for her twin was something Anakin had never felt from anyone before. Strangely, Anakin felt a mirror of that grief, a bizarre, distorted reflection of the same sorrow coming from Luke…and suddenly he knew that his children were somehow inextricably intertwined. Luke was far more dangerous to Leia than Anakin or anyone else could possibly have known. They shared something, some flicker of spirit, perhaps…but whatever it was, Anakin felt certain that it would be that bond which would be key to saving Luke from darkness…or damning Leia into it.

"I've missed you too, Luke," Leia said, her voice breaking. "But you're not really Luke anymore, are you?"

Luke looked at her and shook his head. "I'm the same person who couldn't bear to lose you on the Endor moon, Leia. I'm still your brother."

"No. My brother's dead." Her voice held no strength to it.

"Please, Leia, don't do this." Luke pleaded. "I came here to warn you, you have to believe me. Vader's trying to trick you, trying to get you to trust him by pretending to have returned to the Light Side of the Force…"

Anakin couldn't help the anger that built in him at his son's lies as Leia's eyes glanced at him for the briefest of moments. She didn't really believe Luke…but she didn't _not _believe him, either.

"I remember you once told me that when you started down the Dark path, you could never leave it again," Leia said softly, giving Luke a small, sad half-smile. "At least, you said something along those lines. So…why are _you_ here?"

Luke's mouth quirked. "Touché."

"So, what are you going to do, Luke?" Leia asked. "Are you going to let us go? I assure you, I'm fine…but I don't think that's the plan, is it?"

"Is the traitor there?" Luke asked, his face tightening into a more familiar, colder expression. "The man who's calling himself Anakin Skywalker…he's there, isn't he? I can feel him."

"What does that matter?" Leia asked.

"It doesn't, I suppose." Luke smiled again, the frost vanishing from his face. "Since you'll all be coming with me, I suppose it doesn't matter, does it?"

Leia shook her head. "We're not going with you, Luke."

Luke looked at her pityingly. "Leia, you don't really have a choice. You and the traitor, at least, have no choice. I'll let Han and Chewie go, Leia, I promise…I don't want to hurt them, you know I don't. For crying out loud, Leia, you guys were my family. Do you really think I want to hurt Han…or Chewie…or even Dena? Of course not!"

"Then let us go."

"I can't do that," Luke said firmly. "You know I can't."

Leia stuck out her chin stubbornly. "I won't go with you willingly."

Luke cocked his head. "Oh…" he said, his eyes traveling the barest amount to rest on Solo. "Really?"

Han Solo suddenly arched in his chair, his eyes bulging and a strangled, hideous choking noise coming from his throat.

"Han!" Leia cried out, and Anakin could feel the Dark side swirling around Solo as Luke used hundreds of minute threads of power to tease Solo's nerve endings, making a thousand places all scream pain at him simultaneously.

_Oh, gods,_ Anakin thought, a creeping horror stealing over him, _is THAT what the rumors were about? Is THAT what he does to the people who displease him?_

Anakin had never seen his son work this power before. It required both a level of finesse and a measure of viciousness of which Anakin hadn't known Luke was capable of. The agony that struck through Solo as his body literally flew from the pilot's chair was a hundred times what Leia had just been going through moments ago, and _that_ had turned Anakin's stomach.

Leia flew to her husband's side. Solo's back was curved backwards until he was almost forming a perfect upside-down _U_ with his body. His face started to turn purple, the screams piling up behind a throat that was too shocked to let them free.

"_Luke! YOU LET HIM GO!"_

"Come with me, Leia." Luke said grimly, and the awful _calmness_ in his voice as he tortured his former friend chilled Anakin's soul. "I don't _want_ to hurt him…but I will."

Leia looked up at Luke through the vidscreen, a murderous rage in her face. Anakin could sense the awful fury his daughter was feeling, at Luke, at Anakin for letting Luke become this fiend, at the galaxy for allowing such atrocities to exist…and he knew that Luke was goading Leia, trying to make her take that first step down the Dark path. Leia's anger was much more volatile than Luke's had ever been…and if she struck out at Luke with that anger, using the Force through rage, even untrained…Anakin would lose her.

"Luke!" Anakin stepped in front of Leia, blocking her view of her brother. "Let Solo go!"

"Well, _father_." Luke freed the strands that held the _Falcon's_ captain. Behind him, Anakin could hear his son-in-law collapse to the ground as Luke released the Force. "I would have thought they would have had the good sense at least to keep you locked up."

"I guess they didn't." Out of the corner of his eye, Anakin saw the blue-skinned Twi'lek inching towards the missile controls. Beside her, Solo was gasping for air in the arms of his nearly hysterical daughter. The quad-lasers were inoperational, but Luke had neglected to take out the auxiliary missile launcher…he probably thought it hadn't been necessary. The missile launcher was not intended for ship-to-ship combat…but they were so close... "What are you trying to accomplish here?"

"I won't let you have Leia, _Anakin,_" Luke spat at him. "I have orders to escort you both to the Emperor…though _she's_ probably not scheduled for execution."

"I don't think you'll find that very easy to accomplish…" _One more moment…keep him talking…_

"I think you're underestimating the _Erebus…_or perhaps…" Luke cocked his head, eyes widening as he finally sensed what was happening.

"Now!" Anakin shouted to the Twi'lek woman. She hit the missile launcher soundly.

Luke's image flickered from the screen as the single missile struck his forward shields.

"Lightspeed, _now!"_ Anakin ordered the Wookiee, who didn't hesitate at who the orders came from – the stars arced in front of them as the shaggy beast swept the ship away from the _Erebus_, and then they lengthened as they made the jump to hyperspace.

Anakin felt a tight smile curve his lips. He could feel Luke's raging frustration, and knew the Twi'lek's aim had been true…he couldn't follow them into hyperspace.

For the moment, at least…they were safe from Darth Eivel. He looked at his daughter. Leia was still on the floor of the cockpit, cradling her husband, but her eyes were shooting daggers at Anakin. She glanced pointedly at his freed wrists.

Anakin smiled weakly.

Somehow, he didn't feel all that much better.

**End of Part 7**


	8. Chapter 8

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**To the reviewers….**

**M. L. Hitchcock –** Thanks for the compliments! Actually, the "shaggy beast" comments were deliberate – these scenes are written from Anakin's point of view, and I wanted to demonstrate (subtly, maybe too subtle) that he still has a long way to go…his arrogance is not something that is going to go away right away, and though we never really saw him interact w/Wookiees _too_ much in the movies, he struck me as someone who would not have had an overly high opinion of them.

**Geoffry Woods –** You were absolutely right, re-reading it that _was_ an awkward sentence. Thanks for pointing it out, and I believe I fixed it in an update with something that flowed better. Also, great eye for detail – I did have that scene for the "weak smile" in mind, though I didn't go into detail too much here (are you sure you're not a little telepathic or Force-sensitive? -grin-)

**Anakin-Fan –** I'm a huge Anakin fan too, if you couldn't tell…-grin-

**MTDL -** I wish I _was_ one of Lucas's scriptwriters…but alas, I am not. Just an obsessed fan!

**Everyone else –** I wish I could really let you all know just how much it means to me that I have so many people who are enjoying this story. I am truly honored by your responses. You all are making me feel like my dream of becoming an author is not just a fantasy but also a real possibility! Give yourselves all a pat on the back, because you are all as much of a driving force behind this story as I am – my confidence about my talents has never been this strong! I promise that I will continue to try and do your wonderful comments justice by writing the very best story I possibly can.

So…

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**The Souls of Demons **

**Chapter 8**

**_By Pyxelle_**

_"Luke!"_

_Leia couldn't help the wild relief she felt at seeing her brother enter through the cold white doors. For three days she had been drifting in and out of consciousness, her only company being the odd medical droid passing through her room. Only twice had she seen another living being, and both times that had happened the people in question had not spoken to her, in fact, had seemed to be purposefully avoiding even her slightest glance._

_Leia had been mad with worry – she didn't know where she was, though she had by now gathered that it was most certainly an Imperial structure. The sterile surroundings and gleaming new equipment definitely weren't the earmarks of the Alliance. _

_"Leia!" Luke ran to her side, leaning over to clasp her ever so gently to him. He held her softly for the briefest of moments. "I thought I'd lost you."_

_"Luke, what happened?" Leia asked as he released her and sat next to her in a small metal chair. "Where's Han? Where are we? Did-"_

_"Shh." Luke put his finger to her lips. There were tears of relief hovering in his eyes. "There's too much to tell…I don't know where to start." He smiled, his face beautiful in that moment. "For just a moment, lets just be…I can't believe I came so close to losing you. I don't know how I could have lived with myself if you had died, Leia. You have no idea what I've been going through."_

_Leia smiled gently at her newly rediscovered brother. Luke had such compassion in him, and such a depth of feeling that sometimes Leia believed he could touch even the darkest heart with his love. Certainly he didn't seem to hold any of the easily released anger that Leia all too often was helpless to. She suddenly felt the need to comfort him. "Luke…it couldn't have been that bad. I'm all right."_

_"_Now_ you're all right, and you're going to stay that way," Luke said with a strange determination._

_"Of course I am." Leia pushed up a little so that she was sitting, trying to ignore the dizziness that threatened to overtake her. "But I need to know what's happening. Where's Han? What happened to the fleet? Why are we here?"_

_Luke looked away so that all she could see was the edge of his profile. Even from that vantage point, she could see his grief. "Leia…you and Han didn't get the deflector shield down in time. The fleet…well, the fleet was destroyed."_

_"Destroyed?" Leia's voice was little more than a whisper. "The entire fleet?"_

_"Most of it," Luke confirmed slowly. "A dozen ships or so managed to escape through hyperspace. I did everything I could, Leia, but they wouldn't stop their attack. I couldn't save them."_

"_Of course you couldn't." Leia tried to comfort him automatically, though his comment struck her as strange. What could he have done? Luke took too much onto himself at times, as if the weight of the galaxy was his to bear alone. But he couldn't blame himself for the atrocities of the Empire. She tried not to think about the massive losses to the Alliance and the many dead heroes that she would have to mourn. "What about Han?"_

_"Han's safe," Luke said. He still wasn't facing her. "He was captured, but he's safe."_

_"Safe?" Leia didn't like the evasiveness Luke was exhibiting. It wasn't like him. "What do you mean, safe?"_

_"I can't really go into detail right now, Leia." Luke's eyes flickered to the computer terminals, and then glanced at her pointedly. Leia understood. Everything they were saying was being monitored. "The important thing is that you're going to be all right, and we're together. There's so much we have to do, so much for you to learn and for me to teach you…"_

_"Teach me what?" Leia asked, her forehead creasing in confusion._

_"Leia, I can't believe I didn't notice it before…but your strength in the Force is as great as mine." Luke looked down at her earnestly. "It's not something that you can deny, and you are going to have to learn to control it, or it _will_ control you…oh, Leia, you are going to be so very powerful. You have no idea what incredible journeys are in front of us now."_

_Leia stared at him in amazement. He wouldn't speak of Han's whereabouts, but he would let the Empire know about her affinity for the Force? "Luke, I've told you before…that's a power I'll never have."_

_"You will," Luke said determinedly. "Believe me, you will."_

_There was a strange beep from a communications band on Luke's wrist. He glanced briefly at it, and then stood. "I'm sorry, Leia, but I can't stay." He bent over and gave her a brief kiss on the forehead. "I'll be back later."_

_"Luke-"_

_"I really have to go. You just concentrate on getting better, all right?" Leia could tell that he wasn't happy about having to leave, and suddenly she felt something else…a strange feeling of guilt was building in her. No…it wasn't _her_ guilt…it came from outside…_

_Leia was feeling Luke's emotions. She had never sensed anyone else's feelings before. It was strange, as if his emotions were a translucent cloth draped over her own thoughts, coloring her feelings but not obscuring them. It was certainly the oddest sensation she had ever felt, not the least part being because of the bizarre blending of emotions that Luke was emanating. Guilt, fear, a sense of hopeless surrender…and a distressingly ashamed excitement._

_A desperate fear flowered in her chest. She didn't want to give the terrible suspicion in the back of her mind credence, but… "Luke, what is going on?"_

_Luke looked at her, obviously wanting to stay but feeling an awful compulsion to go wherever it was that had prompted that strange stew of emotions. "I can't talk about it right now, Leia. I promise you, I'll be back soon. But I have to go."_

_"Luke…"_

_"I promise, Leia. You're safe. I'll be back soon." Luke smiled at her, but although she knew he meant it to be reassuring she could see that it was forced. "I promise."_

I promise.

**OoooOoooO**

"I promise!"

"I still think that we should lock him up, Chewie," Han said, addressing the Wookiee but glaring at Anakin. "Maybe find some stronger cuffs, or barricade the door or something.

"Listen, I already said that I promise I won't try to escape," Anakin said with a note of exasperation in his voice. "I turned myself over to you willingly, remember? And I just helped you fight off the heir to the Empire. Why would I try to escape?"

Leia shook herself the rest of the way out of her thoughts. Seeing Luke again was bringing up a wealth of memories she had thought were deeply buried in the crypts of her mind. She brought herself back the present with some difficulty. "Han, we can't lock him up again," she said wearily.

Han looked at her in obvious shock. His hair was still plastered to his head with sweat, and he sat in the pilot's chair, slumped and looking exhausted despite his vehement exchange with Anakin. Whatever Luke had done to him had left a far more palpable aftereffect on him than the treatment Leia had been given. "Please tell me you're kidding, Leia. It's all right. It's been a rough day. Just tell me you're kidding."

"I'm not kidding." Leia shook her head. "We _can't_ lock him up again."

"Why the hell not?"

Leia arched an eyebrow. "It's not a moral decision, Han. We _can't_ lock him up. Did you let him out before? Dena? I certainly didn't. Chewie?"

Chewbacca growled low and gave her a look that clearly conveyed the ridiculousness of that notion.

"I didn't think so." Leia shrugged. She didn't mention her silent plea for help when she had been under assault. "The hold won't keep him, and the cuffs obviously didn't restrain him. We could keep trying, I suppose, but what's the point? He's right about one thing – if he had wanted to escape, why in the galaxy would he have turned himself over in the first place?"

"Don't tell me you believe his ridiculous story now! Leia?" Han just stared at her. Chewbacca was doing the same, somehow managing to convey his disbelief and displeasure even through his rough one-eyed countenance. "_Please_ don't tell me that."

"I hate to keep telling you things you obviously don't want to hear, Han, but…" Leia looked at Anakin…really looked at him. For the first time, she actually tried to sense another living being, actively seeking out their presence in the tapestry of the Force. She could feel Anakin there, glowing brightly in the mirror of her mind, shining a strange, pulsing light across her thoughts. There was a similarity here to her own mind, a sort of mental resemblance – just as one could say she had her mother's eyes or her grandmother's china-doll white skin, Leia could feel she had inherited a strong part of her father's spirit.

Anakin just watched her, his eyes inscrutable, as she plumbed the depths of their shared auras. Leia sighed.

"I do believe him, Han," she said softly. "I think I did since the moment he stepped foot onto Borunn. I just didn't _want_ to believe."

Han groaned. "Just wonderful."

Anakin gave her a small smile. "Thank you, Leia."

Leia frowned. "I wouldn't thank me just yet," she said. "I still don't know what that means for you. If I do believe you, and I suppose I do, that means that we have the murderer of billions of people on board this ship. The slave master of countless worlds. And not to mention the man who personally destroyed my brother." Leia smiled bleakly. "I'm not so sure you're really going to be glad that I believe you…father."

"Leia," Anakin leaned forward, a grim expression on his face. "I'm not that man anymore. I can't change the past, no matter how much I wish I could. I can only atone for it and try to change the future. Punishing me won't save Luke, and it won't keep you from falling to the Dark side. You need training for that, and then perhaps – just perhaps - there's a glimmer of a chance that together, we can bring Luke back."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Han tapped his fingers against one palm in a "stop right now" gesture. "Training? And just _who_ is going to be training my wife in this deadly Jedi roulette?"

Anakin glanced at Han and shrugged. Leia winced at the look of outright horror that her husband gave her.

"You _cannot_ seriously be considering this, Leia," Han said in utter disbelief. "Let's just think about the fact that if you _do_ believe him, then you'd be handing yourself over to the second most evil man in Galactic history for training. I thought you wanted to steer clear of the Dark side – not run at full tilt straight into it."

"Of course I want to keep from turning to the Dark side!" Leia said sharply, and then sighed at her quick anger. "I don't want to fall," she said more softly. "But who else is going to train me?"

"Well, I'll be playing sabacc in Hell with the Emperor himself before I let you choose _Darth Vader_ as your mentor," Han declared hotly.

"I'm not Darth Vader!" Anakin protested with a white heat in his voice. "Darth Vader was a perversion of who I was. A twisted shadow of the man I am trying to be. Believe me, I am trying to rediscover just _who_ I am. I know I am Anakin Skywalker, but just who that is and what I am is still to be determined. The only thing I'm certain of is that as far as I'm concerned, Darth Vader is dead."

"Isn't that convenient?" Han said caustically. "The problem is, you can't erase your past just by changing your name and getting a facelift. Hate to break it to you, but that doesn't change who you are inside. And you, my friend, are a monster."

Silence reigned. Anakin seemed speechless, and Leia could come up with no response to Han's grim pronouncement. Even Dena and Chewbacca seemed to be stunned into silence, the both of them becoming as still as marble statues.

Finally the quiet was broken.

"You're right," Anakin agreed quietly. "I am. And I can't change that." He looked at Han with eyes that held a lifetime of unshed tears. "But please don't deny me the chance to save my children from that same fate."

"Han," Leia said, going over and kneeling beside Han. All of this was happening so fast, and there was so much of it she couldn't explain to her husband. The Force wasn't something she could put into mere words - not even the small amount of knowledge that she had could easily fit into some sort of neat explanation that would ease Han's mind. Damn it all, she didn't even understand it herself. So much of what the Force seemed to be dealt with emotion, with thought, and what was more amorphous and impossible to describe than a single human thought?

Intellectually, Leia knew she couldn't trust this Anakin Skywalker. Her logic told her she should turn him over to the Alliance for genetic testing, and if he proved to be who he claimed to be, he would stand trial for war crimes beyond anything ever prosecuted before. The Alliance still held together some semblance of democracy, but even put to a majority vote Leia knew that the execution order would come through in record time. He would be sentenced and put to death before the first week was out.

Emotionally, Leia _also_ knew that he was her only hope of saving her brother. If Anakin was telling the truth, if he had rejected the Dark side and come back to the Light, then it would be possible for Luke to do the same. Deep in her soul, Leia truly believed that she was susceptible to the same evil her brother now was mired in, and not knowing what the danger signs were made it only a matter of time before she faltered and wandered onto the Dark path herself. The only way to avoid it was to learn the ways of the Force and master the control of the Jedi, something she could not possibly do on her own.

The Jedi were gone now. All that was left of their ways rested in the minds of her brother, who had denied them, and of her father, who was offering to resurrect them.

What choice did she have?

Han saw the desperate plea in her eyes. "Leia, please don't…"

"I don't think I really have a choice, Han," Leia told him softly. He turned his head away angrily, but Leia knew the anger stemmed from his fear for her. She took his chin firmly in her hands and forced him to look at her. "He's the only chance I have to learn the ways of the Jedi and escape Luke's fate. There is no one else."

"What if Luke _was_ telling the truth?" Han looked like he had aged ten years over the last hour. "What if he's lying to you and trying to turn you to the Dark side by deceiving you and gaining your trust?"

Leia looked back at Anakin. The young, handsome face that she saw was open, hopeful, but held a profound sorrow. "I guess I'm going to have to trust my feelings and believe that he isn't," she said softly, "and my feelings say that he's telling the truth."

"Do you really want to risk it, Leia?"

Leia closed her eyes, and in her mind's eye the only thing she could see was her brother's face. There was no other course of action, and she knew her decision was already made.

"I have to."

**OoooOoooO**

"Welcome back, my lord."

Darth Eivel stepped off the boarding ramp to the _Erebus_ and nodded a curt hello to Captain Vesra. He had been able to land on Borunn and repair his hyperspace drive, but had hopelessly lost the _Falcon's_ trail by the time he had finished. He had flown directly back to the Deathstar, as that was where he had ordered Vesra to return to after their disastrous encounter on Jenuiite.

"My hyperspace drive circuits were damaged in a skirmish, Captain," Eivel informed his senior officer as they began walking into the depths of the massive space station. "I managed to do some emergency repairs, but there will need to be an overhaul of the entire drive shaft to fully repair it. Please see that it's taken care of."

"Of course, my lord," Vesra said, and Eivel could almost see the efficient officer filing away that information for immediate resolution. "Speaking of ships, Lord Eivel, I have good news."

"Really?" Eivel smiled humorlessly, but didn't slow his pace. The Emperor had ordered him to report the instant he returned, and Eivel knew that that sort of command was one you didn't disobey. "That would be a very welcome change from the last few months, Captain."

"I'm pleased to tell you that the construction of the _Nyx_ was finished yesterday, my lord," Vesra said congenially. "The _Erebus's_ design was used for the basic ship's systems but all the modifications you necessitated were completed, including the essentially cosmetic changes to the layout and the expanded Imperial cabin. I have to say, my lord, that it is quite an impressive starship – a fitting companion vessel for the _Erebus._"

Eivel slowed for the barest of moments, and then smiled with genuine warmth at Captain Vesra. "That _is_ good news, Captain, possibly the only good news I've heard in weeks. Though her commander isn't with us yet, I'm confident she will be soon. I'm extremely pleased that her gift will be ready for her. Thank you."

Vesra actually flushed. "It's all part of my job, my lord."

"A job that you perform admirably." Eivel complimented the captain. "Speaking of which, did you complete the sterilization of the Jenuiite system?"

"Yes, my lord." Vesra's smile had vanished. His expression became grim. "Sterilization of the surface was complete in the requisite twelve hours. Terraforming and possible repopulation of the planet will be viable in approximately fifty to sixty Galactic Standard years. Estimated time for the regrowth of native flora if left to its natural ecosystem is two hundred to two hundred and fifty years. Estimated likelihood of the return of native fauna, other than insectoid species, is less than .02."

"Very good." Eivel had briefly regretted his order to destroy the Jenuiite system, but after he had given it some thought he had decided he had made the right decision. If the Jenuiite were encouraging dangerous illegal genetic tampering, an example had to be set. And if he remembered correctly, the Jenuiite system was fairly unpopulated...wasn't it? He couldn't quite recall. "What exactly was the final census before the sterilization process?"

Vesra hesitated, and then spoke softly. "Three billion, two hundred and seventy four million, six hundred and twenty-three thousand."

Darth Eivel stumbled, catching his balance only after a split second of shock. _Were there really that many people on that planet?_ His mind blanched. Eivel hadn't realized just how many Jenuiite had been living there. "Are you sure of those numbers, Captain Vesra?" He asked quietly.

"Quite sure, my lord," Vesra confirmed. He seemed to be trying very hard not to look in Eivel's direction. "Give or take a few thousand. Census counts in a population that large are in a hourly degree of flux due to the births and deaths of the general populace."

"I see." Eivel couldn't quite wrap his mind around those numbers. Hadn't he checked the population before he had ordered the sterilization? He felt sure that he wouldn't have overlooked such a thing, but he had no recollection of even making a cursory review of the population census before issuing his orders. He had been understandably upset when he had been determining what to do with the criminal elements on that planet, but still…

"Captain," Eivel asked slowly, an uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice, "What other planets have the Jenuiite colonized on?"

Again, there was a pause from Captain Vesra. "None, my lord."

"None?"

Vesra shook his head. "The Jenuiite were a symbiotic race, Lord Eivel. There was a certain spore in the atmosphere of their planet that they were dependent upon to metabolize oxygen. Any off-world travel required them to transport sufficient quantities of that spore to allow them to breathe. Because of that unique requirement, the Jenuiite rarely traveled off planet, and when they did it was only in the most extreme of circumstances." Captain Vesra seemed to debate something internally for a moment, and then continued. "Incidentally, the spore in question was eliminated during the sterilization process as well."

"Ah." Eivel had not missed the use of the word 'were' in Vesra's report._ The Jenuiite _were_ a symbiotic race_. "Were there any Jenuiite off-planet during the sterilization process?"

There really would have been no reason for Vesra to check for that information, but apparently he had thought to do so because he was able to answer immediately. "Yes, Lord Eivel. There were twelve known Jenuiite off-world travelers at the time." Vesra glanced briefly at Darth Eivel, and then his gaze fixed back in front of him. "Of course, when their preserved air is depleted, they will not be able to survive."

"I see." A terrible word tried to surface from the recesses of Darth Eivel's mind. _Genocide._ "That's…unfortunate."

"Yes." Captain Vesra stopped, and Eivel couldn't help but notice the look of relief on the Captain's face as he turned and saluted. They had reached the Emperor's chambers. "Good day, my lord. I shall be in my quarters if you should need me."

"Good day, Captain." Eivel barely noticed how quickly Vesra left him at the door to Emperor Palpatine's private entrance. His mind was still reeling from the sheer enormity of what a few simple words from his lips had done._ Genocide._ An entire race exterminated. A world's culture destroyed, the jewel of millions of years of evolution ground into dust wafting on the wind. _Genocide._ The annihilation of centuries of literature, eons of artwork, decade upon decade of philosophy…all systematically eliminated within the requisite twelve hours. Captain Vesra was a very capable officer, after all, and he was extraordinarily efficient at carrying out Darth Eivel's orders.

_Genocide._

_Enter, my young apprentice._

Darth Eivel had to suppress a shudder, a reaction he still hadn't been able to control even though he had been allowing the Emperor access to his thoughts for some time now. He still didn't like that DarthSidious could enter his mind at will, but the alternative was to try and fight the Sith Master and that was not a viable option. If he struggled against the Emperor, his Master might become wary of teaching him anything more – and that was not acceptable to him.

Darth Eivel entered the chambers quietly, his hands clasped behind his back, and he tried to push the disturbing thoughts Vesra's report had unearthed in him down. It was difficult, even though he realized that his failure regarding Darth Vader's defection was going to most likely lead to a _very_ severe punishment. Even the thought of the Emperor's wrath wasn't quite enough to banish the incident from his mind.

The two red-clad guards exited silently as he climbed the stairs to the Emperor's throne-like chair, knowing without having to be told that when Palpatine's apprentice entered the room their presence was no longer required. When Eivel reached the Emperor, he knelt on one knee and bowed his head.

"Master," he said softly, "I have failed in bringing Darth Vader back with me. He has betrayed the Empire, betrayed the Sith, and spurned your teachings."

The Emperor was silent. The only noise was the faint hum of the gigantic space station itself, the nearly silent electronic thrumming sounding like the diseased heartbeat of some ancient demon. Darth Eivel stayed in his submissive position, hating his own subservience but being helpless to it. The arrival of this long-dreaded moment began to help with pushing the phantom guilt about the Jenuiite away. He waited for his Master's sentence.

"This is not something that was unknown to me, my young apprentice," Darth Sidious finally said softly, his quiet voice rasping in a strange harmonic melody with the thrum of the Deathstar. "I have long foreseen Vader's betrayal of me and my faith in him. The exact nature of this betrayal was the only thing kept hidden from my view. But do not be concerned, Darth Eivel, for we are not unprepared for this event."

Darth Eivel looked up at the Emperor in shock. "You knew he was going to betray us? And you allowed this?"

The Emperor let out a quietly hoarse chuckle. "You still have much to learn, Lord Eivel. Your father still answers to my will, despite his belief otherwise."

Eivel got to his feet slowly, finally realizing that the punishment he had been expecting wasn't going to come. "I don't understand."

Sidious stood from his chair, smiling at Eivel as he beckoned for him to follow. "Come, my young apprentice." Eivel walked with him, keeping the slow pace of the Emperor and looking at his Master with frustrated confusion. Darth Sidious looked straight ahead, as he so often did seeming to be looking at something beyond or within the material world in front of him that Darth Eivel could not see.

"Your father and you both share the same failing, Lord Eivel," the Emperor finally said as they walked. "Both of you are too quick to see the path the Force lays out for us as a single, linear road that must be followed. The future is not a road made of stone, my young apprentice, it is a faint track in the earth that can be changed merely by altering the direction of your step. That is why what I have foreseen will come to pass…not because it is inevitable, oh, no, but because I understand that I _mold_ destiny. I _create_ fate. It is because of this knowledge that your father's destiny has always rested in my hands...as does your own."

Darth Eivel managed to keep his face smooth, but he couldn't stop the surge of angry denial he felt at the Emperor's words. Darth Sidious glanced at him with a wry smile on his face, and Eivel felt his face flush. It was impossible to hide his feelings from his Master.

"Oh, I know you wish that it wasn't so, Lord Eivel," Sidious kept his gaze forward. "Just as Iknow that one day a Skywalker will be my destroyer. Oh, yes." He nodded sagely at Eivel's incredulous stare. "I have foreseen my death at the hands of the Skywalker line…but which of you it will be, that, I cannot see."

The Emperor opened a door at the far right of his chambers and gestured for Eivel to enter. The young Sith did so, trying valiantly to understand the strange turn this meeting had taken. They entered a long hallway with a single door at the end, a keypad being the only obvious method of entry there.

"I have spent many nights in curious contemplation, wondering which of you will take my life," the Emperor mused. "I've come to hope it will be you, my young apprentice."

Again, Eivel couldn't stop a shocked look from crossing his face. Darth Sidious laughed. "I truly do, Darth Eivel. If I _must_ be struck down by a Skywalker, I would very much like it to be by your hand."

"I…"

"After all, you _are_ the strongest of your family, are you not? Lord Vader, at one time, would have rivaled your power, but his disastrous battle with Kenobi weakened him greatly. Even now, with his youth restored and his body rebuilt, he is weak because he foolishly tries to deny the Dark side and his true nature. Your sister, the lovely Leia, is untrained and undisciplined." Darth Sidious glanced sideways at him and tapped the control pad, entering a long string of digits into the computer. "So please, don't deny me my little conceit that it would take the most powerful Skywalker to finally overthrow me."

Eivel had to struggle for words. This conversation was definitely not on the nearly infinite list of possibilities his mind had imagined regarding his reunion with his Sith mentor. "My Master, you do me a disservice if you think I will betray the Empire as Vader has done."

"Betray the Empire? Lord Eivel, the thought never crossed my mind!" A handprint identification scanner slid out from underneath the control pad. The Emperor placed his hand on it, and a sickly green light passed underneath his palm. The computer chirped acceptance, and the door slid open. "It is the way of the Sith, and the way of the galaxy. The strong survive, and the weak are consumed. When I am no longer strong enough to resist your power, then the day has come for my reign to pass to you. But…" Sidious smiled at him tightly. "That day is not today."

Eivel followed the Emperor into a large white-walled chamber. The sizable room seemed to be a cross between some sort of experimental laboratory and a high-tech medical facility. There were a few humans in lab coats working in various stations and a Twi'lek male sitting at a computer terminal. Two beings that Luke knew to be Kaminoans, though he had never personally met one, were speaking quietly to each other within a glass-sealed booth at one end of the room.

"What is this place?" Darth Eivel asked, trying to absorb the sights and sounds of the room as best he could. He had thought he had known every inch of the Deathstar, but he'd never even guessed that this room was here.

"Tell me, my young apprentice, did you never wonder _how_ I discovered where Leia was hiding?" Darth Sidious asked him, looking up through his hood with his strangely inhuman eyes. "Or just _where_ I learned the exact frequency and decryption code for their base communications system?"

Eivel realized he _hadn't_ questioned the information…not at all. He had been so excited by the fact that they had found his sister, and that he and Leia would finally be reunited that he hadn'tthought about the _origin_ of the information, noteven to the slightest degree.

"I can see that in your anticipation you did not." The Emperor echoed his thoughts. He gestured to a curtained area. Eivel followed. "The Rebels have not been sitting in their sad little bases shivering in fear, Lord Eivel, even if that is all they can effectively do anymore. They still delude themselves into thinking that they can somehow mount an effective resistance against us, against the Empire."

The Emperor pulled aside the curtain. "I'm tired of letting the Rebels wear away at the foundation of the Empire like vermin. If they are going to act as vermin, then we will exterminate them like vermin. But how do you exterminate a rats' nest when you don't know where the nest is?"

Emperor Palpatine smiled at Darth Eivel, who was staring down at the medical bed in front of him in stunned surprise. "Quite simple…you ask a rat."

Lying in the bed in front of him, a blank and vacant stare in his eyes, was Wedge Antilles.

Darth Sidious chuckled grimly.

"But first, you have to _catch_ one of the rats."

**End of Part 8**

Whew…done with Chapter 8. I hope I kept everyone's attention, and please, let me know what you thought of it!


	9. Chapter 9

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters, worlds, or races. I am making no money from this work, nor do I claim ownership of anything other than the story. This work is purely for enjoyment. So, enjoy!_

**SPOILER ALERT! This takes elements from all 6 movies. Be forewarned if you have yet to see _Revenge of the Sith_ **

**Categories: **Action/Adventure/Sci-fi/Angst

**Primary Characters: **

_Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader _

_Luke Skywalker/Dark! Luke_

_Princess Leia_

_Han Solo_

**The Souls of Demons **

_**By Pyxelle**_

**Chapter 9**

"Soften your stance, Leia. You're much too tense."

Han whirled around when he caught the words, grateful he had heard Anakin's voice before he had entered the common cabin. He wasn't in the mood for the man today. Truthfully, he wasn't in the mood for him _any_ day. Although he had been on board the _Falcon_ for the past few weeks, Han could barely remember more than a dozen words passing between them, and that was the way he wanted to keep it. He didn't trust him. He hated that her new teacher monopolized all of Leia's time, and he absolutely _despised_ the fact that he was training her, gambling with Leia's soul as the stakes.

"Hey, Chewie," Han said softly as he entered the cockpit. The Wookiee was lounging in the co-pilot's seat, the ship on autopilot, and his furry feet were propped up on the control panel. Han knocked his feet off the controls with an irritated noise deep in his throat. "I've told you not to stick your hairy feet on the control panels, fuzzball. I'm sick of cleaning Wookiee fur out of my hyperdrive switches."

Chewbacca growled something in annoyance and shot a pointed glance at Han. Han just shrugged his shoulders in response, the tenseness there betraying the light gesture.

"Yeah, well, at least when I spilled that Ozgon whisky on it I could clean it up with a rag and some cleaning solution," he retorted. Wasn't Chewbacca _ever_ going to forget that night? So he had been out a playing sabacc a little too late…and had trusted a certain gambling partner a little too much…a certain _female_ partner…"The last time I had to get fur out of there I ended up replacing three motivator circuits – the damn stuff mats in there and it's nearly impossible to get off a circuit without yanking the wires all to hell."

There was a deep rumble from the Wookiee. Han rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration, surrendering and swinging his own feet up to rest on one of the panels. "Just forget it. Forget I said anything. Forget I'm even _here._ Why not? Everyone else seems like they have."

Chewbacca looked at him in confusion, tilting his head slightly and looking at Han curiously from under a fall of fur. Han sighed.

"Sorry, Chewie." He hadn't meant to sound so irritated. "I'm just in a crappy mood. I don't like just tooling around the galaxy aimlessly…it's boring. Not to mention that I haven't been able to give Ackbar a decent reason why we're still not at the Vegalles system."

His partner nodded in understanding. Han knew that Chewbacca didn't like this forced pleasure cruise any more than he did. But the fact of the matter was that Mon Mothma had known Anakin Skywalker in her youth, had spoken with him on multiple occasions, and as a Senator had been very well acquainted with Anakin's wife (and Han had learned that although their marriage had remained secret, Anakin's very presence in Padme Amidala's life had not gone unnoticed). It would be too risky to bring him with them to the Vegalles system. If Mon Mothma _did_ recognize him and was able to put aside her disbelief long enough to conduct a formal investigation, things could quickly turn ugly.

So here they were, bouncing from system to system, pretending to be scouting for new territories that might make acceptable bases for future Alliance installations. The problem with that scenario was the fact that they were not really qualified for it. They didn't have the required specialists – geologists, terraforming experts, exo-biologists…in other words, they weren't the mega-brains of the Alliance. Han still didn't know just what Leia had said in order to convince Ackbar that they didn't need to swing by Vegalles and pick up a few of these experts. Knowing his wife, he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to know.

"Any messages?" Han asked with the slightest bit of wary curiosity. Ackbar had been contacting them nearly every_ day_ to check on their progress. Since Leia was so busy with her training, it fell to him to answer the Admiral's messages…and Han was running out of lies to tell him.

Chewbacca nodded and pointed to the vidscreen. Han looked at him and gritted his teeth.

"From Ackbar?"

This time the Wookiee shook his head. The message wasn't from Admiral Ackbar.

Han smiled a little in relief. "Give thanks for small favors," he said under his breath as he tapped the comm system. A single message popped up the vidscreen, the words glowing green against the black backing of the monitor. It had no descriptive subject, just a name…_Capricorn._

His feet dropped to the floor. "Chewie, I think I'll get this in my quarters," Han said casually. He switched the vidscreen off, trying to act as if he didn't see the odd look Chewbacca was giving him. "I'm not good company today anyways. Just stay here and, well…" he shrugged, realizing that with autopilot on Chewbacca really didn't have anything to do in the cockpit other than monitor the surrounding space. "Well, get comfortable, I guess. Put your feet up." Han grinned wryly. "I'll get Threepio to clean out the fur if I need to."

Chewbacca snorted in obvious disbelief. The day he let Threepio dig around in his main control board was the day the universe collapsed under its own weight. Han had never really liked relying on droids, and although he had to admit that Threepio and Artoo had gotten them out of some pretty hairy situations before he still didn't like to use them unless it was a real emergency. It was only since the battle of Endor that Han had begun to utilize them more frequently, running communication encryptions through Threepio or letting Artoo take over some of the navigational systems in a pinch. He still didn't _like_ it.

"Okay, I won't let Threepio in the controls, you're right," Han allowed with a crooked grin. He started out the door…and turned. "If Leia ever finds about the night with that Ozgon dancer, you'll be one dead Wookiee – I hope you realize that."

Chewbacca's only response was a wide, innocent grin that sat uncomfortably on his face. Han's lips twisted in sardonic amusement. "Don't try to play innocent, Chewie. Wookiees aren't built for it."

He left to the deep rumble of Chewbacca's laughter and headed towards his quarters. Han wasn't worried that Leia would be in their room when he entered. The days may have been long and filled with jaw-cracking yawns of boredom for him, but they were hours of intense training for her. She hadn't done much but fall into bed every night since she had started, her frustration nearly a physical entity that shared their bed with them. Han knew she was having difficulties, but with Jedi training he could give no advice, and had no frame of reference to put it in.

The computer chirped as he brought up the message. A security verification was requested, and he entered the code quickly, glancing back once just to make sure Leia wasn't in the room. Of course, she wasn't. The message scrolled across the screen as the decryption codes unlocked its secrets.

_Gemini's search for completion is not yet done. How he knew Sirius is still a mystery, but it could possibly have been a Trojan who introduced them. The Lady of the Evening is nearly ready to fly in more ways than one, and chaos should be wary of her. So should you._

Han read the message three times, committing it to memory before deleting it from the comm log. His mind ran quickly through the odd message.

Luke wasn't done looking for Leia. Han would have thought that anyways, but it was still good to have confirmation. Just how Luke had found the Rebel base on Borunn hadn't been discovered yet, but it might have been through an Imperial spy within the Alliance. Although Han found the idea of hidden Imperials within the Alliance disturbing, it was definitely a valid course of thought. But the "Lady of the Evening" he didn't understand at all. As far as he was concerned, the only "ladies of the evening" he knew were in the brothels of Tatooine. Who…or what _was_ this Lady? Ready to fly? Fly to where? And just what did "chaos should be wary of her" indicate?

Perhaps it was suggesting that their unknown spy was a woman…that would make sense why _he_ should be wary of her, but the chaos bit threw him off completely. Han ground his teeth in frustration. He hated all this cloak-and-dagger stuff, and wished that his contact didn't insist on speaking in this damnable code all the time. He was a pilot, and a damn good one, not a historian. Trying to dig up all these unbelievably ancient references was pushing him close to the edge of utter insanity.

_At least it's something to do._

That was true. It would at least occupy the time.

Han sighed deeply as he pulled out a data disk from a cavity behind the panel of a false vent. This was where he used to hide the small, delicate valuables he would sometimes transport while on freighter runs…for example, one does _not_ want a Snivvian Urn to be stored in a cargo hold. Number one, the Urn alone probably would have been worth more than Han's ship twice over. Number two, Snivvians become very agitated when the ashes of one of their ancestors become scattered across a freighter's cargo – as Han Solo and Chewbacca knew from experience.

The hiding space had not held anything but this data disk for quite some time now. It was really the only hiding spot he had left on the _Falcon_ that Leia knew nothing about.

Han couldn't help but feel a little guilty about keeping secrets from his wife, but it was for her own safety…dealing with an Imperial defector, especially before the defector in question actually _defected_, could make for a very short life. The less Leia knew about it, the better. He popped in the data disk and checked the time as he loaded its contents. Leia still probably wouldn't be coming back for several hours.

Han hoped that he would be able to figure out just what the cryptic message was trying to tell him in that time.

He wasn't quite sure why, but hearing the title "Lady of the Evening" scared the hell out of him.

**OoooOoooO**

"This...is…completely – _ouch_!...ridiculous!"

Anakin tried not to show the frustration he felt as the makeshift target droid he'd cobbled together scored another hit on Leia's body. So far she hadn't managed to intercept a single blaster shot. The loose white sparring suit she wore, belted at the waist by a soft black rope, was peppered with so much gray carbon residue that it appeared as if she had been rolled in soot. "Stop trying to watch for the shots. Your _eyes_ aren't fast enough to follow a blaster pulse…your _mind_ is."

Leia's eyes narrowed, darting back and forth to follow the target droid, and even as she twisted the lightsaber Anakin knew she was going to move too late. The mild blaster pulse struck her hand and she yelped as she dropped the lightsaber to the ground, its red blade flickering out as it bounced off the floor of the _Falcon's_ small common cabin.

He couldn't help but sigh. "Your _mind,_ not your eyes. Use the Force, Leia. Let it guide you…remember, the Force already knows where the blaster is going to shoot, so all you need to do is let it lead your hand to that spot."

"I'm trying…" Leia tucked a lock of hair that had fallen out of her braids behind her ear as she snatched his lightsaber off the ground and ignited it again. She gritted her teeth, dropped into readiness stance…

And again, Anakin could already see her eyes nervously following the droid, the lightsaber staying steady in her hand instead of moving in response to the ripples the droid sent out into the Force. He shook his head in exasperation as he hit the 'off' button on the droid's remote control. It dropped to the floor with a _clunk!_

Leia looked at him, her annoyance plain on her face. "Why did you deactivate it?"

"Because you aren't _listening_, Leia." Anakin tried to picture Qui-Gon Jinn's steady patience, hoping that if he focused on that image enough he might feel some of the Jedi's legendary calm. It wasn't working. "You'll never block the blasts if you expect yourself to _see_ it coming. You have to trust the Force – trust _yourself -_ and believe that it will guide your weapon to the precise angle that will deflect an attack."

"I _do _trust myself," Leia said hotly.

"All right, but do you trust your strength in the Force?" Anakin remembered this being a very difficult stumbling block for many younglings at the temple, who's children's minds were already much more malleable than a young adult's more mature intellect was. He himself had never had an issue with it, and honestly hadn't expected his children to – especially not Leia, who was so confident of her own strength. "Do you trust the _Force?"_

"Yes!"

"If I may be so bold, Princess Leia," Threepio said from across the room, where he had been standing for the past hour while watching their training session. "When Master Luke was studying with Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi would often have Master Luke practice while wearing a helmet with the blast shield down."

Leia looked at the gleaming protocol droid in disbelief. "You mean try and fight that thing blind? Forget it!"

"Actually, Leia, that's a pretty good way to _make_ yourself use the Force in order to react," Anakin admitted, picking up a helmet and handing it to her. She stared at it blankly. "If you don't give yourself any other choice, you might instinctively reach out to it rather than try and depend on your other senses."

"There's no way I'm going to let that thing take pot shots at me while I stumble around blindfolded." Leia shook her head and tossed the helmet to Threepio. The droid fumbled with it, letting it bounce back and forth between its jointed golden hands several times before finally grasping it.

"Well," Threepio huffed quietly, putting the helmet down carefully. "It was just a suggestion."

"It was a good suggestion, Threepio," Anakin soothed.

It had been incredibly bizarre to have had Threepio sent to him that first night several weeks ago. Solo had shown him to the tiny quarters where Luke's old bunk was and had left him there without a word. Shortly after that the protocol droid Anakin himself had built nearly three decades ago had ventured nervously into the room, introducing himself as "C-3PO, human-cyborg relations" and telling him that "Master Solo" had requested that he make sure their guest was comfortable. Anakin highly doubted those had been Solo's words, but was too shocked at Threepio's appearance to have contested them. A few carefully worded questions had confirmed Anakin's suspicions – Threepio had been memory-wiped after Mustafar, and had no memory of Padme, the Republic, his original construction on Tatooine – or of his history with Anakin Skywalker.

"Thank you, Master Anakin," Threepio said now, bringing Anakin back to the present and looking at Leia as if he had been vindicated. Anakin had to stifle a laugh at the royally haughty look his daughter sent towards the droid.

"Threepio, isn't there something else you could be doing?" she asked pointedly. "Maybe you could help Arfive with the communication encryptions."

Threepio made a noise of distaste. "I'm sure that's not necessary, Princess. Arfive Seefour seems quite capable-"

"I'm still sure he could use the help," Leia interrupted. Anakin had been surprised that due to the lack of their own astro-droid, Arfive had been placed on board the _Falcon_. He had been a bit startled when Leia had said the _Falcon_ even _had_ an astro-droid, as the freighter wasn't actually built to need one. Leia had given him a curt explanation - the droid had interfaced with their systems often enough that Han had grudgingly admitted that having one on board _was_ a bit of an asset to the _Falcon. _Besides that was the fact their customary droid had a certain sentimental value Given Solo's attitude towards droids, Anakin was still surprised.

But what had completely floored him was their astro-droid's identity.

Leia was still talking to Threepio. "He's not as familiar with this ship as you are."

"Yes, but-"

"And he is working on the _communications_ systems."

"I am aware of that, but –"

"Threepio!"

"Yes?"

"Go!"

The protocol droid visibly deflated. "Yes, Princess Leia."

"Thank you," Leia said with obvious relief.

Anakin couldn't help the smile that quirked his lips as Threepio walked stiffly from the room, muttering to himself. The door slid open with a quiet hiss before the droid, oblivious to Threepio's quiet speech.

"I wish Artoo Deetoo was here. I believe I have _never_ had the misfortune to work alongside a droid with such a neurotic personality as that R5 unit. Artoo _never_-" The door _whooshed_ shut behind him.

"I wish Artoo was here, too," Leia grumbled. "Then we wouldn't have to listen to him complain all the time."

Anakin surprised himself by laughing, earning a cross look from his daughter.

"What's so funny?"

Anakin shook his head, but the smile stayed on his lips. "Nothing."

"What is it?" Leia demanded, her hands on her hips. She looked eerily like Padme when she did that, and Anakin's smile faded.

"I'd just like to meet this R2 unit your droid seems so fond of, that's all," Anakin said. It was the strange parallels like this that would have made him believe in the Force even if he _didn't_ have the power to sense its presence. The fact that the same astro-droid he had been paired with during the Clone Wars – not to mention Threepio – was still functional _and_ serving a Skywalker tickled him for some reason. His answer was the truth – although he was sure Artoo's memory had been wiped as well, he still looked forward to his reunion with the little droid.

"Well, he should be back shortly, as soon as Wedge is finished with him," Leia said. "I'm sure he'd like to get his usual astro-droid back, too."

Anakin didn't ask who Wedge was, where he was going, or why Artoo Deetoo had been sent with him instead of his usual droid. He already knew Leia wouldn't tell him. The few questions he had asked regarding the Rebel Alliance had been met with hostile stares or a cold "that's none of your concern."

To tell the truth, generally any question Anakin put to his daughter that didn't have to do with her Jedi training was met with hostility. Leia may have accepted his offer of training, but she certainly hadn't accepted _him._

"Well?" Leia was staring at him impatiently. "Are we going to continue?"

Anakin shook his head. "No."

"Why not?"

"I already told you." Anakin wondered briefly how Obi-Wan had stayed sane while he had been the Jedi's padawan. "You're not listening."

"Yes, I _am_!"

"No…you're not." Anakin looked her steadily in the eye. "You don't trust me, and so you don't trust what I'm teaching you. Not to mention the anger I still sense in you. I've been very clear about the need to stop and calm yourself if you begin to become frustrated or angry – or if any negative emotion begins coming over you. Use the Jedi meditations I taught you if you need to."

"The Jedi meditations you _taught_ me?" Leia rolled her eyes and flopped heavily into a chair. "Some teaching. We spent an hour together this morning 'thinking about life.'"

_Calm…peace…_Anakin hadn't thought _he_ would need to use the calming techniques today, especially to keep from throttling his daughter. "That's what I meant by not listening," he said, trying to bring his voice to the even tone Obi-Wan had managed to have with him – at least, most of the time. "That's not what I said to you. You need to sense the _patterns_ of life. Start by breathing slowly, rhythmically…and then begin to feel the pulse of your own life, your own heartbeat, the Force beating in harmony with that heartbeat…only when you begin to sense the Force _inside_ yourself will –"

"I be able to sense the Force outside," Leia finished for him. "I _was_ listening."

Anakin gritted his teeth. "Were you always this difficult of a student, or is this some sort of repressed adolescent rebellion you're going through? Because I can't believe they would have put up with this behavior in the Alderaan Apprentice Legislature if you had treated your mentors this way."

Leia looked surprised, and then a pink flush slowly stained her features. "You're right," she said, "The AAL wouldn't have put up with it, and I suppose neither should you. I'm sorry."

Anakin nodded in acceptance of her apology.

"You're also right about me not trusting you. I don't." She looked at him somberly. "What's more, I don't think I can."

Anakin felt a twinge deep inside. "I know it will be difficult, but-"

"No, I don't think you do." Leia shook her head vehemently. "I can't put Darth Vader or the Empire aside so easily. I can't forget that I was forced to watch you destroy my home. I can't forget what it was like to watch Alderaan be annihilated, watch my father be reduced to an empty waste of space – and yes, the Organas _were_ my mother and father, no matter who's genes I have."

"They raised you." Anakin remembered Padme talking about Naboo, how she was going to decorate the baby's room in a fairy-tale theme so that it would work for a boy or a girl. He wondered briefly what Bail Organa's wife had decorated Leia's room like. "They gave you food, shelter…and love. They _were_ your parents, Leia."

"When Luke told me that Darth Vader was his father on the Endor moon, I felt pity for him." Leia's eyes were far away, and she didn't seem ashamed by the admission, although Anakin knew she must have sensed the pain her words caused. "Disbelief at first, but mostly pity. Then he told me he was my brother. I was so taken aback that it took me until after he was gone to really realize what that meant. If he was my twin brother, then Darth Vader was my father, too."

Her eyes flickered to Anakin, and for a moment he saw softness there. "I can't accept you as my father. I can't think of you as Darth Vader. I don't know _what_ to think about you." She smiled a very thin smile. "I don't even know what to _call_ you."

Anakin's mind seemed to be blank. He couldn't think of a single word to say. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to hear the title of "Father" from her, not yet – he didn't feel as if he deserved it.

"So no, I don't see how I can trust you," Leia concluded, and then smiled wryly as she held the lightsaber she had been practicing with up in front of her. It ignited in a blaze of crimson fire. She stared at the flaming red blade, her chocolate brown eyes inscrutable. "This doesn't help, either."

Anakin frowned. "Leia, it's a little difficult to engage in lightsaber training without a lightsaber."

"I know," Leia sighed. "But every time I hold this thing I can't help but think about all the innocents that must have died at its blade. I even saw it happen once – I remember the one brief glimpse I had of Obi-Wan Kenobi was when I was watching this weapon steal his life away."

The Sith blade blinked out of existence, and Leia shrugged. "So much for my only hope."

_If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine._

Anakin closed his eyes. There was so much to regret, so very much to atone for…and Leia couldn't have known just how much that particular memory affected him. He knew that his old Master had forgiven him, but Anakin was still far from forgiving himself.

There was not one detail lost in his mind about that day. He remembered seeing Obi-Wan's face for the first time in almost twenty years, and the shock he had distantly felt – Obi-Wan had seemed so very old, so very tired. His careworn face had been firm, resolute – but the long exile on Tatooine was etched deeply into those features, each single year that had passed leaving twice its time on his face. And yet, the remnants of the great Jedi had been there, barely visible, but it was still Obi-Wan Kenobi. It had still been his first Master who had looked at Darth Vader with sorrowful resolve before they battled against each other as if that day on Mustafar had never ended. It had still been Obi-Wan Kenobi's strong, pure presence he had felt in the Force.

And he remembered very clearly the moment when Obi-Wan had sacrificed himself. He remembered watching him close his eyes and bring his lightsaber up as though he were about to perform an ancient knighting ceremony, only to have Darth Vader's blade cut through the old man and then suddenly…nothingness. No body. No trace left of his old Master. Nothing remaining of Obi-Wan Kenobi at all.

Or so he had thought at the time. Obi-Wan's essence had merged with the Force, and his spirit had lived on strongly enough to bring Darth Vader back from darkness. He had known that the one place where Anakin Skywalker might be stronger than Darth Vader would be in the house on Naboo, where the memories of Padme Amidala could still touch him and the innocence of his youth still lingered. Obi-Wan had seen past the mechanical half-human creature he had become and reminded him of the man he had once been…the man behind the machine.

"Anakin," Anakin Skywalker said softly.

Leia looked at him in confusion. "Excuse me?" she said.

"I am a _person,_ and my name is Anakin Skywalker." The words Anakin spoke were soft, nearly silent.

Leia's face was cautiously appraising him. "Uh…yes. I really do believe you."

"No," Anakin laughed gently. "That's not what I was insinuating. I was thinking of the first time I met your mother."

"My mother?" For the first time, Leia's eyes held no rancor as they watched him.

"Yes." Anakin tried to keep the darker memories at bay – there were so many of them, but there were so many good memories, too. He noticed that Leia's face was pained, and felt a touch of remorse. She had just explained that she didn't consider her birth parents to be her mother and father, and here he was pushing his memories on her. "I'm sorry if I upset you by mentioning her."

"No!" Leia said quickly. She seemed to be debating something internally, and bit her lip for a moment. Finally she spoke. "Tell me."

Anakin looked at her in mild surprise. "Tell you what?"

"About my mother," Leia said, sitting up in her chair, her back as straight and proud as any queen's. "My real mother. Padme Naberrie Amidala."

Hearing that name brought a wealth of memories back to Anakin's mind. His eyes were far away as he thought of the fourteen year old handmaiden who had come into Watto's junkyard one day and had left with most of Anakin Skywalker's heart, a heart which wouldn't be whole again for another ten years. She had been so beautiful, ethereal in a way, as if only part of her lived on this crude plane of existence and the rest of her resided in a place of untold wonder.

"I thought she was an angel the first time I saw her." Anakin laughed lightly. "I was only nine at the time, and to tell the truth, I had no idea what an angel really was. I thought they were beautiful, elegant creatures from the moons of Iego. Women, of course. I imagined them to be soft-spoken, gentle ladies with long braided hair, silken gowns and gentle eyes…" Anakin felt a wry smile quirk his lips. "Actually, I sort of imagined them as the dancers the Hutt would sometimes keep to amuse themselves."

Leia raised one eyebrow at him.

"Well, I did learn about them from deep-space pilots, after all," Anakin defended himself. "Not the most intellectual group around, but probably one of the most gullible. I think to them, angels were a bit like the ancient mariner legend of mermaids."

"I don't know what a mermaid is." Leia shook her head. "For that matter, I don't know what an angel is, either."

"Neither did Padme." Anakin admitted. "When I met your mother, I was nine and she was fourteen – not exactly the best pair for romance. It was ten years after that initial time together before I saw her again, but I never lost her image in my mind. And even then she had become the ideal of an angel to me, the essence of beauty and goodness…so I looked it up one time in the Jedi Archives. That's where I read about mermaids, too, mythical creatures that were half-woman, half fish. Sailors used to tell tales about them seducing the crews of lost vessels, or of catching a mermaid in their nets and being cursed for seven years, and other such nonsense. Sailors were a superstitious bunch, I imagine." He smiled at Leia. "So are deep-space pilots."

He was silent for a moment. Leia waited for a few seconds, but seemed compelled to speak.

"So what's an angel?"

Anakin looked at her. "The Jedi Archives had several definitions, like it did for almost every single word ever uttered. One said that an angel is a 'guardian spirit or guiding influence.' Another said it was a 'typically benevolent celestial being, conventionally in the image of a human figure with a halo and wings.' But there was one meaning that stayed with me, one that summed up how I saw Padme more than anything…"

"What was that?"

Anakin stared ahead of him, his blue eyes very far away. "One who manifests goodness, purity, and selflessness," he said softly. "I remember Padme once asking me if love had blinded me. Perhaps it had." He laughed a little. "Perhaps it blinds all of us. I mean, just look at you and Solo. He's not exactly the man I would have expected a royal princess to marry."

He could see Leia open her mouth to protest…and then the protestation died before it could ever be said. Leia shrugged slightly. "All right, I can see that. I would never have believed it when I met him that one day I'd be his wife."

"Exactly my point. We make people into who we want them to be, at least to some degree," Anakin said. "Everything in the galaxy is affected by us, because of our _perception_ of everything."

"So, what you're saying is that everything _really_ depends on our point of view."

Anakin started sharply. "Did Luke talk about this with you?"

Leia frowned in puzzlement. "No. Why?"

"No reason." Anakin was shaken, but he didn't want Leia to know it. So he simply continued on. "Anyways, what I'm getting at is that your mother _wasn't_ perfect, _wasn't_ really an angel, but that I saw her as one." He shrugged his shoulders lightly, unknowingly echoing Leia's earlier gesture. "Which means that I'm probably not the best person to talk to about her. I won't be able to be very objective."

_Not to mention I won't be able to speak her name without pain._

"I don't mind a biased view…Anakin."

Anakin looked at Leia intently. She had exhibited no trace of sarcasm when she had said his name, no hidden barbs. Leia stared back for a moment, and then looked down at the Sith lightsaber she still held. She held it out to him, and Anakin took the weapon with reluctance. Her eyes met his.

"Look, I've been trying to find out more about my real parents since Luke told me about my heredity back on Endor," she said quietly. "I knew Darth Vader used to be Anakin Skywalker from what Luke told me, and an Alderaanian Princess has quite a wealth of resources available to her even _if_ Alderaan is gone and the Princess is a rebel traitor with no home. It wasn't hard to find records, security holos, registration entries…but that's cold information, with the exception of the few holos I found, it's a mass of names, dates, and places that give me very little information to use. Even the holos I found were mostly newsfeed holos. There weren't many personal records for Padme Naberrie Amidala…and virtually none for Anakin Skywalker."

"No," said Anakin, "there wouldn't be."

"I said before I can't accept you as my father," Leia said, her eyes serious. "I guess that's not entirely true. You're not Darth Vader anymore, I can feel that, and I do believe you want to redeem Anakin Skywalker…redeem my father. So why don't we just accept each other for who we are at this moment, and try to act as teacher and student. I'll try to be less difficult. Just…don't expect too much." She cast her eyes away. "I can't give much right now."

"Thank you, Leia." Anakin looked down at his lightsaber, trying not to remember the day he had first been gifted with it. "I suppose training is done for today."

"Thank goodness," Leia said with a sound of relief. She looked down at her carbon-scored body in amusement. "I really need to clean up."

"All right."

Leia stood and began to walk away. At the door she paused, her face curious as she glanced back at him.

"Anakin…why did that comment make you think of my mother?" she asked.

"What comment?"

"'I am a person…and my name is Anakin Skywalker,'" she quoted his earlier words.

"Oh, that," Anakin said. "It was just the way I answered a question Padme asked me, once. That first time I met her."

"What did she ask?"

Anakin didn't speak for a moment, and when he did, his voice was nearly silent. "She asked me if I was a slave."

Leia's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why would she ask you that?"

He glanced up at her. "Because I was. I was born into slavery on Tatooine. Obi-Wan Kenobi and another Jedi by the name of Qui-Gon Jinn came and freed me so that I could go to the Jedi temple." There was so much more to that story, but this wasn't the time to tell it. "I hated being a slave. I hated that my mother and I were considered property. When Padme asked me if I was a slave, I thought she would see me as that – mere property and not a person at all."

"I am a person," Leia repeated slowly.

"And my name is Anakin Skywalker," Anakin finished, nodding. He smiled in sardonic amusement. "The irony is that I escaped the slavery I was born into, but spent most of my life as a slave to the Emperor." He wasn't able to stop the harsh laugh that escaped him. "Funny, isn't it?"

Leia stood at the door, her face unreadable. "I really need to clean myself up," she said after a moment. "And talk to Han. I'll see you later."

And she was gone.

Anakin stared at the empty doorway for a few seconds, and then back down at the Sith weapon in his hand. Why _had_ he kept this? Was he, like Luke, reluctant to cut the ties to his past and walk away from it forever? What was that part of him that still felt loyalty to the Emperor…his mind? His heart?

The fact of the matter was that it was the only lightsaber they had to practice with, and it would be foolish to destroy it…

With surprise, Anakin realized that he didn't care. This weapon was still a part of _Vader's_ life, not his, and he felt a sense of immense relief as he took it to the portside disposal vent and shoved it through. He slammed the door to the vent and hit the outer release button, not being able to see the Emperor's gift sailing into the vacuum of space but feeling a weight lifted from him nonetheless. His only means of training Leia in the Jedi lightsaber skills was gone, but with it went the nagging reminder of the Emperor's last hold on him. _Every_ material thing that tied him to Darth Sidious was gone now, and maybe that meant that only Anakin Skywalker remained.

Anakin could hope. At least he still had that.

He had hope.

**End of part 9**


	10. Chapter 10

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters, worlds, or races. I am making no money from this work, nor do I claim ownership of anything other than the story. This work is purely for enjoyment. So, enjoy!_

**SPOILER ALERT! This takes elements from all 6 movies. Be forewarned if you have yet to see _Revenge of the Sith_ **

**Categories: **Action/Adventure/Sci-fi/Angst

**Primary Characters: **

_Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader _

_Luke Skywalker/Dark! Luke_

_Princess Leia_

_Han Solo_

**The Souls of Demons **

_**By Pyxelle**_

**Chapter 10**

_"Walk with me, Luke."_

_Luke fell into step alongside Ben, glancing briefly at him in curiosity. "Where are we going?"_

_"Oh, nowhere, really." Ben shrugged a little. "I just wanted to have some time to speak with you. You're so busy now, so very important that it seems that there's no time for us 'little people' anymore." He smiled softly at his onetime student. "So I thought I'd just steal a few moments, while I had the chance."_

_"I'm never too busy for you, Ben, you should know that." But was that true? Something was nagging at Luke, some bit of information that seemed vital, somehow…but it kept slipping from his grasp. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"_

_Ben didn't say anything right away. Luke allowed him his silence, knowing that when he was ready the old Jedi would speak. Instead he looked around at his surroundings, realizing that he wasn't quite sure of where he was and seeing them for the first time._

_They were in a field of some sort of rolling green grass, the very tips of which were stained a deep midnight blue. It stretched off to the horizon in every direction, seeming to merge with the blue-black magnificence of the sky itself. The moons were out, three of them, all round and bright and beautiful, the middle one tinged ever so slightly with gold. They bathed the gentle hills in a glorious radiance. _

"_Where are we?" Luke asked in some wonderment. "I don't recognize this place."_

_"You've been here before, Luke," Ben told him softly. "You just didn't look at it before."_

_Luke shook his head. If he had seen this splendor before, it would have stayed with him. Briefly he thought he should bring Leia here, sometime – she would love the silvery-gold loveliness that shone down from the triple moons onto the waving grasses of this planet. _

"_Leia won't be able to come here with you, son," Ben said. Luke looked at him in surprise. _

"_Why not?" Luke asked, stumbling a little. Ben reached over and grabbed his arm, catching him._

"_Watch your step, Luke. The ground here is very uneven."_

_"So I see." Luke frowned as he glanced back at the oddly familiar rounded knoll in the grass. A shape teased him, dancing across his thoughts briefly before flitting away into that strange netherworld where incomplete thoughts lived when they were dismissed from the minds of men. "Why won't Leia be able to come here? Is it dangerous?"_

_"No, not anymore." Ben shook his head, stepping aside to avoid a curiously formed lump on the ground. "This is a dead planet now, Luke."_

_Luke laughed a little, swatting aside an insect that was buzzing around his head. "Ben, I'd say this planet is anything but dead."_

_"That's because you're not looking hard enough," Ben told him quietly._

_Luke tripped again, and he mumbled a mild curse under his breath. He hadn't felt this inept since_

(before he had turned)

_before he had learned the ways of the Force. "I don't understand."_

_"Ah." Ben nodded. He stopped walking and turned to face Luke, his face sad. "And that, my son, has always been the problem."_

_"Ben, what are you talking about?" Luke searched Ben's face, and a strange fear began to germinate within him. Something was terribly wrong here. "Why are you being so cryptic? What is it that you are trying to teach me?"_

_"Oh, Luke." Ben reached out and put one gentle hand on his shoulder. "I wish I could still teach you. I wish there were some way I could help you. But I am no longer your_

(Master)

_teacher, and you have chosen a path I cannot touch you on."_

_"What does that mean?" Luke demanded, an oddly familiar anger growing in him. "You're not making any sense!"_

_"Aren't I?" Ben looked around, his weary eyes surveying the landscape with resigned grief. "Look around you, Luke. Don't you know where we are?"_

_Luke looked around at the land around him. It seemed to stretch on forever, and suddenly he could see shapes in the grass, the curve of a hand here, the arch of a skull there…and he realized that he was standing in the midst of thousands of corpses, the gently waving grass covering a never-ending graveyard of bones forgotten and left to decay in silent solitude. He spun, terror building in him, looking around in all directions…but no matter which way he faced, the slaughtered remains of millions were all he could see. _

"_What…what happened here?" he whispered, horrified at the idea of the carnage that this place showed him. "So many…so many deaths…"_

_"Behold your Empire, Luke." Ben swept one hand out, his face full of sorrow as he turned to face him. "An Empire of the dead."_

_"My Empire? I couldn't…" Luke whispered…but he knew he _could_…and _had_…"Ben, please, tell me this didn't happen. Please…why are you showing me this?"_

"You brought yourself here, not I." Ben said. "I haven't been able to reach you for quite some time, now. I was beginning to think I never would again."

_Luke felt some sort of emotion building within him, one he couldn't define, and suddenly he wanted to weep_

(laugh)

_at the memories that threatened to overtake him. _

_"No…" he said quietly, and anger began to grow in him, an anger that he welcomed. In anger he could ignore the guilt, in fury he could bury the pain. "You're lying!"_

_"Am I?" Ben tilted his head. "Tell me, Lord Eivel, is it everything you dreamed of? Is it what you wanted? Can you justify the slaughterhouse you have made of your soul?"_

_"It can't be true!" Luke felt the icy flames of the Dark side flow through him, and his rage fueled the energy he felt coursing in his veins. His hands thrust out and suddenly a cloud of inky blackness surrounded Obi-Wan Kenobi, swallowing him in its black jaws and then dissipating, taking the ghost of the Jedi with it, and leaving Darth Eivel alone._

_Alone in the fields of his dead. His Empire._

_Darth Eivel began to laugh, a harsh, hysterical sound that seemed oddly appropriate for this place of darkness._

_And Luke Skywalker began to scream._

**OoooOoooO**

Darth Eivel sat up in bed, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. The dream was already fading, but he could hear the echoes of both the laughter and the screams still reverberating in his mind.

_Stay out of my mind, old man,_ Eivel thought angrily. Obi-Wan was trying to reach him, as he had on Dagobah so long ago, but he wasn't going to succumb to the dead Jedi's tricks. _I promise you, you won't like what you find there._

There was no answer, and Eivel could feel whatever remnant of Obi-Wan's spirit that had touched him disappearing into the Force. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the air cool against his bare chest, and held his head in his hands for a moment. Despite himself, he felt shaken by the dream. It had been a long time since he felt the guilt that still taunted from his sleep.

Eivel got out of bed and poured himself a glass of water, staring out the window into the emptiness of space beyond. He sipped at the water, thinking to himself about the vastness before him. So many worlds, so many species, so many people…it was staggering to think about. His responsibility towards each and every one had gnawed at him from the start, until he had been able to start seeing their faces as mere numbers, the worlds as coordinates on a map and nothing more. It was a deadly, elaborate game he played, ruling the galaxy alongside the Emperor, a game that required a cold, dispassionate eye to play with any success. He had become an expert at that game…but sometimes he wished it wouldn't have been necessary, his entrance onto the Emperor's playing field. Sometimes he mourned…

But that would do him no good now. Eivel shook the thoughts from his head, putting down his glass and walking over to his desk. He had work to do.

His mind would not be quieted so easily, though, and as he sat at his desk his eyes traveled over to the drawer that still held his second lightsaber. He opened it, taking out the weapon he had made for himself after he had lost his father's Jedi weapon, along with his hand, in Cloud City's power core. Why _had _he kept this? He remembered Vader's

(_Anakin's_)

questioning gaze. It wasn't as if he used it. It was a thread, however feeble, to a past he could not return to.

He held it in his hand, feeling the cool metal of the handle, remembering how he had gone back to retrieve it, lost in the cold corners of the Imperial chambers, after he had pledged himself to the Emperor…even then knowing that he would never use it again. He should dispose of it. It was useless, a remembrance of a dead and forgotten past.

_Not forgotten. Dead, but not forgotten._

Eivel sighed as he placed the lightsaber back in the drawer and shut it. As the Emperor said, the past would fade with time.

He brought up the login screen on his terminal, typing in his id code and password absently. The computer paused, and a low buzz emitted from the speaker. _"Duplicate login found._

_What!_ Eivel typed in the information again, and this time an accepting chirp greeted him. _"Login successful."_

Eivel frowned deeply as he scrolled through the data on the screen. Nothing _seemed_ out of place. He checked the history of his usage, and it flickered on the screen.

_Last login: 7 hours, 12 minutes ago._

That concurred with his internal time clock of when he had last accessed the system. Was it just a computer glitch?

Or something more?

If it was something more, then Eivel had the advantage. He knew about them, but _they_ wouldn't know he had discovered the tampering - if that was what it was. He would leave his login information unchanged. He signed off the system, and signed back on under a name already set to executive privileges, but one that thus far had never been used.

Username: Leia Organa 

_Password: xxxxxxxxx_

"_Login successful."_

Darth Eivel's fingers flew over the keypads, setting the computer to monitor all activity under his usual login from this point on, even if it was just to check the internal message system. It would dump all that information into a file under Leia's unused profile.

If someone had cracked his codes, then the next time the intruder signed on, Darth Eivel would know about it.

**OoooOoooO**

"Has the computer's main programming been uploaded to the _Nyx, _lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Onorea Detlas nodded briskly. "Yes, Captain Vesra. The main programming has been fully loaded, and supplemental systems are being installed right now. Estimated completion in three hours."

"Very good." Captain Vesra ran one hand along the shining chrome surface of the ship, his expression almost tender. Onorea nearly smiled at that, but she knew it would be inappropriate for her to show that type of affection for a senior officer. It was hard not to, though. She had never liked working under another officer half as much as she did serving under Captain Vesra.

He didn't look like much, she realized, with that dark hair that was already graying at the temples, and the slight build which made him look weak, frail, almost, until you saw him at work. He had a sort of no-nonsense feeling about him, as if he looked at everything in the galaxy as something to be catalogued, filed and recorded in his mind to be stored for flawless retrieval later. When he was in the command chair of a ship, whether it be a simple TIE fighter or the command deck of a Star Destroyer, he filled with a life so strong it dominated the room, overshadowing everything …until his own commander entered, that was.

Darth Eivel's presence washed away just about everyone else's. There was no question about that.

"She's a beautiful ship," Onorea found herself saying, and then started in surprise at her own words. "I'm sorry, sir, that was innapro-"

"Don't worry about it, lieutenant." Vesra cut her off and laughed a little, a sound Onorea didn't think she had ever heard before. "She _is_ a beautiful ship. There should be no shame in telling the truth."

And it certainly was the truth. The _Nyx_ was virtually a replica of the _Erebus_ in form, a slender, graceful elliptical body coming to a needle-nosed point at the fore, the gently sloping wings giving the illusion of a proud falcon in flight. The differences between the two were minor, but obvious – while the _Erebus's_ surface was a gleaming obsidian, the _Nyx's_ hull shone a mirror-bright silver, somehow making it unmistakably feminine. The _Erebus_ was ever so slightly larger, harder somehow, as if it projected the very essence of Darth Eivel himself.

They were, quite honestly, the most incredible ships Onorea had ever had the fortune to work with.

Onorea could see their reflections in the silvery hull of the _Nyx,_ and she realized that her own brown hair was just a shade lighter than Captain Vesra's, and they were almost of the same height.

"I'd give anything to fly her," she said softly before she realized she was going to speak.

Vesra smiled at her humorlessly. "That's unlikely, Lieutenant Detlas. This ship is intended for Lord Eivel's sister. Until she picks her own crew, no one but Lord Eivel is going to fly her."

"Oh, I know that." Onorea nodded, and then sighed. "He does have excellent taste, doesn't he?"

Vesra nodded slightly. "Thank you, Detlas."

Onorea looked at him in surprise. "What for?"

"Because I designed her," Vesra replied modestly. "Both the _Nyx_ and the _Erebus_ are based on designs I created for the Empire several years ago, but neither the Emperor nor Lord Vader were interested in them. Lord Eivel still has affection for the simple act of piloting, though, and he said he found merit in my designs."

He patted the hull absently. "It was gratifying to see these designs become a reality. And I suppose I do hold a tender spot for these two ships, even if that sort of emotion is discouraged around here." He smiled at her. "I designed them, built them, I even named them…so of course I feel proud of my work. And so, I thank you for the compliment."

They began to walk alongside the _Nyx,_ silently. A chirping noise caught Onorea's attention briefly, and she glanced around at the sound. There should have been no one else in the Imperial Hangar other than herself and Captain Vesra, but she dismissed it as she spotted the blue and white droid that had tapped into the computer system. Just one of the astro-droids doing a memory dump into the main computer, feeding it's information into a file to be reviewed for later use. Nothing of concern. She had other things on her mind.

"Captain Vesra," she said slowly, "may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, lieutenant."

Onorea didn't speak for a moment, and when she did, her voice was hesitant. "Have you known Lord Eivel for long?"

Vesra glanced at her sideways as they continued walking. "As long as anyone here on the Deathstar, lieutenant. Just since he joined the Empire."

She nodded. "I wonder what he was like before that. When he still was part of the Rebel Alliance."

He didn't say anything for a moment, and Onorea felt a brief flash of worry. She knew she was treading dangerously close to information she should not be prying into, but Captain Vesra was the closest person to Darth Eivel that she knew of – that is, if anyone could actually be called 'close' to the heir to the Empire.

When he finally answered, his voice was very soft. "I imagine he was quite a bit different, from what they say. He was considered a great hero to the Alliance. It was he who shot the missile that destroyed the first Deathstar, you know."

Onorea nodded. She had known that.

"I wish I could have known him," she said quietly. "Before, I mean. When he was still Lu-"

"I think this conversation has gone quite far enough, Lieutenant Detlas." Vesra turned to her and frowned. "The Empire has ears everywhere, and I would keep your curiosity to yourself, if I were you. Asking too many questions about Lord Eivel will lead you into a place you don't want to go. Believe me, Onorea," he said a bit more gently. "Just do your job. Forget about the Master's past. It's a dangerous place to be."

She cast her eyes towards the floor, flushing. Her words stumbled out of her mouth as she tried to apologize too quickly. "I'm sorry, Captain Vesra, I didn't mean any disrespect, I just-"

"I won't discipline you this time, lieutenant, though if I find you prying into matters that do not concern you again I will be forced to do so." Captain Vesra's eyes were hard. "And if it goes further than that, and Lord Eivel chooses to mete out that discipline…well, you won't soon forget the lesson."

"Yes, sir," Onorea mumbled, clutching her datapadd in her hand. She knew she had gone too far, and she backed away quickly. "I have quite a bit of work to do, Captain, and I –"

"Quite right. We both have a great deal to do." Vesra's step quickened. "Good day, lieutenant."

"Good day, Captain."

Onorea nearly ran back to her station, barely able to maintain any semblance of dignity.

_Stupid, stupid!_ she thought to herself. _He's the Master's highest ranking officer, why did I think-_

A low buzzing error noise came from the computer behind her, and she glanced back from her station, but it was still the same little astro-droid continuing its data dump. Once again she dismissed it, her face still burning as she brought up the installation progress for the secondary systems installations on the on the _Nyx_. Thirteen percent completed. She would have to wait for a while before installing the tertiary systems, but she could run them through simulations to ensure that her programming was error-free, which was most likely unnecessary but it couldn't hurt to-

_Hold on a second. Why is an astro-droid in the Imperial Hangar?_

Onorea had only been recently promoted. Until the last week, she had worked in the main docking bays, where astro-droids were common and at any one time one or several of them would be performing data dumps. But this was the Imperial Hangar, holding only the Emperor's shuttle, the _Erebus_ and the _Nyx-_ none of which required astro-droids. She glanced back at the data hook-up where the droid had been connected, and frowned.

The blue-accented droid was already gone.

**OoooOoooO**

Artoo Detoo was a droid.

He knew he was a droid, as far as any machine could 'know' anything. He knew that he could not 'feel' in the standard, organic sense of feeling, but that didn't stop the fact that he 'knew' fear. His circuits were programmed with fuzzy logic, making him a trinary entity, rather than a binary one. A binary machine consisted of two states. _On _and_ off. _

With Artoo Detoo, as with his counterpart See-Threepio, a third state existed…_maybe._

And that _maybe_ presented a whole other world of computations for him to perform…including the possibility of emotional imitation.

So he couldn't really 'feel' fear…but he could simulate it.

And right then, he 'felt' that he had never simulated as much fear as he was simulating at that moment.

Artoo Detoo had shut as much of himself down as he could when Wedge's ship had been fired on and disabled. (Wedge Antilles, in Artoo's data core, was considered binary code _01000010001000100101, _or a sharp beep followed by a trilling chirp if Artoo was communicating through sound) The deception had succeeded, as far as Artoo was able to tell, at least at first. He had been left in Wedge's X-wing when the Imperials tractored it into the Deathstar. (Deathstar: _0110111011100101001, _or a low, long whistle followed by three short clicks)

After the Imperial crew had finally taken him out of the ship, he had continued to keep his systems powered down, cycling his shut down/reboot routine anytime one of the engineers would try to access his memory core. Again, his ruse had worked. He had been shunted aside, put in a room with other malfunctioning equipment until time could be found to remove his memory core and allow them to go through it manually.

Which was, without doubt, not something that Artoo intended to let happen.

He had waited until his sensors had reported that there were no life signs detected outside the door of the small room they had left him in, and then plugged himself into the data connector and opened the door. Before leaving the room, he quickly downloaded the floor plans for the layout of the Deathstar – a simple destination map, nearly useless to the Alliance, but it would at least allow him to competently navigate the battle station. Security was too tight for him to get anywhere else, most certainly too tight for him to get into the main computer core from a basic data port in a random storage room. For a droid of Artoo's abilities, the main computer core was only accessible from four places - the command deck, the Imperial quarters of the Emperor, the Imperial quarters of Darth Eivel, and the Imperial hangar.

Artoo certainly had no intention of going to the Emperor's quarters. Nor did he wish to enter Darth Eivel's rooms. (Darth Eivel had once been _0001000100101110101_ and a cheerful chirp followed by a trilling of soft chimes but was now _1000100101010011001_ and was signified by a four tight clicks and a deep, warbling whistle) The command deck had too high of a risk attached to it (odds of entering and exiting unnoticed were 11453:1, as Threepio would say, which were odds even Artoo Deetoo didn't want to risk)

So that had left the Imperial Hangar.

Artoo Detoo had found very few problems with finding his way to the Imperial Hangar, had in fact found it to be quite easy once he had left the equipment room. There had been only two individuals in the large chamber, neither of which had binary codes attached to them in Artoo's memory core. They had both ignored him as he had hooked up to the data port and ran program _Skywalker1_. Artoo was accustomed to their dismissal, for very often organics would ignore mechanicals if they weren't actively interacting with them. It was actually a fact that Artoo had been somewhat relying on.

His processor had run through the program swiftly, using its stored knowledge of Luke Skywalker's computer history to cycle through likely encryption details and password possibilities. There was no guarantee that he would find a corresponding login/password. He wasn't sure how much of his history files still correlated to Darth Eivel's current usage. He might not be able to enter the main systems. He might not find any usable codes at all.

But he did.

And the moment his codes were accepted, Artoo had begun the data dump of program _Alpha23_.

_Upload in progress_, the unfamiliar computer had told him, and Artoo's simulated fear began to wane. It was working. Against all odds (Artoo had not calculated them, although Threepio most certainly would have) it was actually working.

Everything was going well right up until the data dump completed. He signaled the computer that his upload was finished, and was about to start execution of the program when the Deathstar's computer core buzzed a low warning at him.

_Duplicate login found._

Which meant that Darth Eivel had just tried to sign onto the system.

Artoo pulled out of the system hastily, taking only enough time to erase the information regarding his usage before disconnecting himself from the data port. He spun on his wheels, rolling away from the strange computer as quickly as he could, exiting the Imperial hangar and turning down the corridor rapidly. He nearly collided with a maintenance droid that was cleaning the floors outside the hangar. It buzzed at him loudly.

"Get back to the docking bays, astro-droid," it told him harshly. "And slow down. You'll burn out your motion circuits at that speed."

Artoo gave a quick, wobbly whistle of acknowledgment.

"Stupid little astro-droids," the maintenance droid muttered as it continued along its way.

Artoo rolled down the corridor swiftly. No stormtroopers came down this hallway. The corridor was quiet.

And as the minutes passed without incident, Artoo eventually slowed, coming to a more natural pace as he made his way along the Deathstar's halls.

Artoo Detoo may have been a droid, but there was no doubt that he could _simulate_ emotion.

And right then, Artoo simulated a very convincing sense of relief.

**End of Part 10**


	11. Chapter 11

**To the Reviewers:**

**AnakinFan-** I'm sorry to hear about your pet. :-( I'm glad I was able to bring a bit of light to your day, though!

**Jedis'Mistress** said: _"I like the way you describe how R2 communicates and how Luke was and now is said in 'R2 Language"_ ---I'm glad that came across! I was hoping that I could show that even R-2 has been affected by Luke's fall.

**Maphisto86** said: - _"After reading your story once or twice I noticed your affinity for using Greek mythology. The Erebus and the Nyx are Greek God's and the names fit perfectly for the ships and their owners." _

You're the first person to comment on those, and I'm glad someone finally recognized them! Yes, I love mythology in general, and I thought that those names fit quite well too (Obviously –grin-)

**Maphisto86 **also said: "_If only we knew what the Erebus and the Nyx look like_." – Your comment made me realize that I never really described them well, so I edited chapter 10 (during the conversation between Onorea and Vesra) so that there is a more detailed explanation of what the ships look like. Thank you for pointing that out!

**Crazytook said**_ "The end of the dream sequence with ben was creepy, reminded me of some parts with rand in the wheel of time series"_ -- I love the Wheel of Time series, so it's a great compliment to compared to it. Thanks!

**To Everyone**: I'm glad that virtually everyone liked the bit from R-2's perspective. I really liked the idea of having a portion from the little droid's viewpoint, but it was difficult to try and come up with a way to work that – but it seemed to come off well, at least from the responses I've gotten! And of course, thank you all for the great comments. You're keeping this story going by the wonderful encouragement!

Thanks ever so much!

And now, of course….

**The Souls of Demons **

**Chapter 11**

_**By Pyxelle**_

"How much longer before you start the final series of treatments?"

"Several hours, my lord. Most likely we won't begin until tomorrow morning, and we should be completed with the final series in approximately seventy-two hours."

"Very good. I would like some time alone with the patient, if you don't mind."

"Of course, my lord."

A pause. "Good _day_, doctor."

_Luke?_

_Was that Luke's voice?_

Wedge Antilles felt a vague relief as his mind swam out of the dark pool it had been lost in for an indefinable amount of time. He felt disoriented, almost as if he had spent too much time in deep space and was trying to adjust to a planetary schedule again. No, that wasn't quite what it was…it was a bit like a hangover, though Wedge's experiences with those were limited, but not quite that either. Whatever is was, his mind seemed to be disconnected from him, distant, as if it were sending his thoughts to his body via some strange mental broadcast, making everything he heard and felt reverberate disconcertingly in his head.

He simply couldn't define the sensations. He had no frame of reference to put them into.

"Wedge…Wedge…can you hear me?"

Wedge licked his lips and cracked his eyes open, but the light beyond blinded him and his eyelids squinted shut again almost immediately. His mouth worked as he tried to respond to his friend, but no sound came out.

"Doctor!" he could hear Luke's voice shout coldly. "Dim the lights, please."

The bright light above him darkened, and Wedge tried again to open his eyes again, this time with a slightly greater degree of success. He still couldn't see much, but he was at leastable to make out Luke Skywalker's fuzzy features above him. He tried to speak again. "Lu…L…"

"Shh. Don't talk yet." Luke held a small glass of water up to his lips and Wedge drank gratefully. The water revitalized him a little, the cool liquid blessedly reviving his parched mouth. "Take your time. You've been on intravenous fluids for a while now. It'll take a moment before you can talk."

He nodded, his eyes slipping closed again. Why was he on intravenous fluids? Had he been injured? Wedge's thoughts whirled away from him, spinning off in a dizzying rhythm, and he fuzzily realized that his difficulties were probably due to whatever painkillers or anesthesia he had been given. The glass touched his lips once more, and he sipped at the water again.

"Good?" Luke asked. Wedge nodded without opening his eyes. Even those few sips were making his stomach feel queasy.

How long had he been unconscious?

"L…Luke…what happened?" Wedge finally managed to whisper, his tongue feeling thick and stupid in his mouth. "Did I get shot down?"

Luke was quiet for so long that Wedge cautiously opened his eyes, braving the stinging lights. His friend swam into a wavering focus above him, a frown deeply creasing his face. Distantly Wedge thought that Luke looked…different, somehow. Harder.

"You don't remember?"

Wedge shook his head and instantly regretted it. A shocking pain pounded within his skull, and his face grimaced in pain. "N…no."

"Well...to be honest, I'm not quite sure _what_ happened," Luke said slowly. "I was hoping you might be able to tell _me_."

His mind raced backwards through a shimmering confusion of memories. Wedge had a vague recollection of flying out of Borunn's atmosphere, heading towards someplace he didn't really want to go, someplace where he was very likely to be taken prisoner, some battle station

_(the Deathstar)_

the Deathstar, that was it. He had been heading to the Deathstar with someone else…no…not _someone_, but _something_…

_(R2D2)_

some droid…and he was alone…because he wasn't the important part of the mission, no, he-

"Wedge?" Luke asked, his voice gentle. "Are you still with me?"

"Yeah," Wedge whispered, the train of his thoughts derailing as he spoke. _Why_ had he been going to the Deathstar? "I'm here."

"I need to know what you were trying to do, Wedge." Luke's voice was soft but very firm. "Please, try to remember. It's extremely important."

The urgency in Luke's voice made Wedge struggle harder to make some sense out of his murky thoughts. Luke wouldn't be pressing him if it weren't of the utmost importance, though there was something about Luke

_(Darth Eivel)_

that he thought he needed to remember, some bit of information that was significant about his friend

_(his enemy)_

that for some reasonhe couldn't quite dredge up into his conscious mind.

Wedge tried to focus on Luke again. The dimmed lights made it easier, and Wedge could see Luke's face clearly for the first time. Luke's hair was shorter than he remembered, brushed back neatly, and his blue eyes were calm as they met Wedge's gaze. He was wearing a simple high-necked black shirt, plain and functional, andthough he couldn't see anything to cause it, Wedge suddenlyfelt a strange sense of alarm.

Apparently, Luke was able to sense this because he smiled reassuringly at Wedge. "It's all right, Wedge. Take your time. I'm just glad you're all right."

That was the Luke that Wedge remembered, and he felt the apprehension slip from his mind. He struggled to remember. "Han…and Lando…and…"

_(…Princess Leia looked at him seriously. "Wedge, you don't have to do this. It's practically a suicide mission."_

"_Oh, it's not that bad." Wedge gave Leia a lopsided grin, hoping that his fear didn't show on his face. "Come on, think about it. The longer we wait, the less likely it is that little droid's program is going to work."_

"_There's no guarantee it's going to work at all," Han muttered darkly. "I don't like this. I'd just like to state that again, for the record."_

"_This is off the record, Han, remember that," Lando said softly. "This entire mission is off the record."_

"_Well, for the record, I'd like to say that I don't like that the mission is off the record, either," Han retorted shortly._

"_Han," Leia put her hand on her husband's arm. He just looked away._

_Wedge leaned forward. "Look, this is my choice. If it works, hey, after R-2 runs Alpha23 I've got what…fifteen minutes? That's plenty of time for me to get to my ship and away from the Deathstar. No problem." He smiled jauntily at them, an expression he hoped looked more genuine than it felt. "I can handle that."_

"_And what it doesn't work, Wedge?" Han demanded. "What if Luke finds you…hell, he's _not_ Luke anymore! What if -")_

"Wedge, wake up." Wedge's eyes jerked open as he felt Luke's cool hand on his forehead. "Come on, Wedge, don't fall asleep on me now."

"Sorry," Wedge muttered, taking a deep, painful breath. "Sleepy."

"I know you're tired, but I need you to stay focused." Luke's voice was grave, and Wedge could sense his urgency, but he couldn't quite bring himself out of the fog that clouded his thoughts. Luke continued to speak. "Please. What did Han and Lando want you to do?"

"They…take my fighter and…" he trailed off again.

"Wedge, _please_," The blue pools of Luke's eyes seemed to be bottomless, and for some reason Wedge suddenlycouldn't seem to pry his gaze away from them. The rest of the world was fading into a distant nothingness, drowning reality around him in those unfathomable depths, and Wedge's heart began pounding like the beating of some primal drum in his ears. "_Tell me what you were doing."_

Some part of Wedge tried to claw its way up from the deep well of his mind, trying to tell him something that was at once massively important and mind-numbingly insignificant. His heart sped even faster. _Thud-thud… Thud-thud… Thud-thud…thud-Thud-thud-Thud…_ "I was-"

Clipped footsteps and a dispassionate voice cut him off.

"Lord Eivel, his heart rate-"

"Quiet!" Luke snapped at the doctor who had walked up behind him. "I asked you to leave us!"

But it was too late. _Lord Eivel._

"Luke?" His voice was no more than a whisper, and even as he said the name Wedge's memory came rushing back in a black flood. The pounding of his heart seemed to stop all at once, the blood freezing in his veins as he stared at the monster who wore Luke Skywalker's face.

_(no not luke not luke darth eivel and gods oh no what have i told him is r-2 here and how long have i been here how long how long )_

"Dr. Belei, I will discuss this later with you," Darth Eivel said softly, addressing the doctor but never breaking eye contact with Wedge. Distantly, Wedge could hear the doctor stammering in a belated attempt to apologize.

"Yes, my lord, I'm sorry, I didn't realize-"

"Leave!"

Wedge could hear the doctor scurrying away. Darth Eivel was looking down at him, a strange, almost sad expression on his face, and Wedge couldn't help the wild panic felt.

"Wedge-"

"No!" Wedge somehow managed to make that single word sound strong. He swallowed painfully. "I'm not telling you anything."

Eivel sighed. "Please, Wedge-"

"Stop talking as if you're my friend." Wedge surprised himself with the steadiness of his voice and the sudden clarity of his vision. He felt the steel in his words. "You're not my friend."

Darth Eivel looked at him for a long moment. "No," he finally said, giving Wedge an indecipherable look. Perhaps it was his imagination, but Wedge almost believed there was grief in that look. "We're not friends, are we?"

Wedge just stared back as coldly as he could, remembering what Leia had tried to drum into him. This was not his friend. _He's not Luke Skywalker, he's not Luke Skywalker, he's not-_

"Dr. Belei!" Eivel's voice was sharp, and it cut off the mantra Wedge was repeating in his head. The Sith turned away and began to leave. "Continue your work. I have nothing else I wish to do with this patient."

"Yes, my lord." The doctor seemed to be busying himself somewhere out of Wedge's sight, but he could hear the physician's nervousness in his voice. Luke would have never inspired that sort of fear in anyone. _He's not Luke Skywalker, though, remember, not Luke…_

"No, I'm not Luke Skywalker," Darth Eivel paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "You're right about that, Wedge. It's something you should have remembered before you came here."

There was a moment of silence. Wedge's mind had gone to a blank surprise when Eivel had repeated the words that had been going through his own head.

_How much of my mind can he see?_

"Lord Eivel?" The doctor's voice was hesitant.

"Yes, doctor?"

"What would you like us to do when we are through with the procedures?"

Darth Eivel locked eyes with Wedge Antilles, one of Luke Skywalker's oldest friends, and a cold, hard understanding came between them. For the barest fraction of a second before his ice-blue eyes flickered up to meet the doctor's question, Wedge swore he saw Luke hesitate…but only for that infinitesimal moment in time. Then it was over, and whatever reflection of Luke Skywalker he had seen was gone.

"Kill him," Darth Eivel said evenly.

**OoooOoooO**

"Do you think Wedge is all right?"

Leia looked at Dena Beratt in some surprise. That was an odd question, considering that Dena didn't know where Wedge actually was – as far as most of the Rebels were concerned, Wedge had gone to visit family in the Outer Rim. "Why wouldn't he be all right?"

"No reason, I suppose." Dena shrugged a little too casually. "I guess, well, I guess I just expected him to check in. That's all."

"I'm sure he's fine." Leia wasn't sure of any such thing, but she couldn't tell her friend that. Wedge _should_ have checked in by now, Dena was right about that, although she didn't know it. Han had assured Leia that Wedge probably just wasn't able to get a communication off to them – after all, he had to make sure it wouldn't get intercepted before trying to contact the Alliance. Wedge should have been deep within Imperial Space by now, and they knew that meant that their communication with the Rebel fighter pilot would be spotty. "He's probably just busy."

Dena nodded. "You're probably right," she said, giving Leia a weak smile. "I worry too much sometimes."

A flash of insight suddenly illuminated Leia's thoughts. She didn't know if it was due to her new training in the Force, or simply woman's intuition, but the certainty that suddenly filled her mind made her mouth drop open in surprise. "You have a thing for Wedge, don't you?"

"What?" Dena looked honestly surprised, but then gave herself away by blushing, her normally powder blue face staining a deep violet. "Of course not!"

"Yes, you do!" Leia grinned, and if possible, Dena flushed even more. "I would have never guessed…you and Wedge?"

"Leia!" Dena made a motion to shush her. "Keep your voice down! I don't want the whole ship to hear!"

"The whole ship? You mean Han and Chewie?" Leia didn't mention Anakin. She just laughed a little, but she lowered her voice and leaned over conspiratorially. "Okay, spill it, Dena…how long have you two been dating?"

"We're not!" Dena denied.

"Dena…" Leia straightened, pretending as if she were going to shout out loud. "Han-"

"No, really, Leia!" Dena pleaded, her eyes darting quickly to the door. "We're not…not really."

"Not really?" Leia raised an eyebrow. "So…you're sort of really dating?"

Dena let out a frustrated breath. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope." Leia shook her head playfully. "No way."

"All right, all right." The Twi'lek's fingers played with the tip of her left lekku, a habit that Leia had realized Dena had when she was nervous. As she always did, Leia wondered briefly if the delicate scrollwork of Dena's black tattooing on her lekku had been painful – she vaguely remembered reading somewhere that the skin on a Twi'lek's cranial tentacles was highly sensitive. For the first time, however, she wondered just _how_ sensitive it was, and if Wedge could possibly answer that question. Despite herself, she felt herself grinning again.

Dena, however, still hadn't answered. "Dena…"

"By the Ninth Ring of the Pestilent Hells, Leia, you can be really pushy." Dena glared at her. "I'm thinking."

"About…?"

"Well…" Dena's anger lifted as if a cloud had passed and a small, almost shy smile touched her lips. "We haven't really dated yet…but he asked me out. Just before he left Borunn."

Leia didn't let her own smile falter. That would have been just before he left on his mission to the Deathstar. "Go on."

"It was kind of funny, actually." Dena actually giggled, her eyes going momentarily far away. "I've been sending hints for a while now, at least, I _thought_ I was…but he's human, after all, not a Twi'lek male, so I was beginning to think I was being too subtle - though how anyone could mistake a _Val'ersaru'mai _for anything other than forward is a complete mystery to me." Dena's tone was slightly naughty, and Leia wondered briefly what in the galaxy a _Val'ersaru'mai_ was before deciding she probably didn't want to know. Dena went on. "So I was actually shocked when he pulled me aside the night before he left and asked me out."

Dena tossed her lekku back over her shoulder, clasping her hands in front of her and smiling happily at Leia. "You could have knocked me over with a microfilament wire, Leia, seriously, I was that surprised. There I was, just checking over his X-wing, making sure it was ready for extended flight...I didn't even know he was in the hangar with me, and suddenly I turn around and there he was."

Leia watched her friend's happy face, and inwardly winced. At that moment, she really wished she didn't know where Wedge actually was. "And?"

"And…well, he looks at me, his face as serious as a slaver's sister-" as serious as a slaver's sister? That had to be some Twi'leki phrase Leia wasn't familiar with. "…and he says, 'Dena, do you have a guy back home?'"

"Seriously?" Leia couldn't help but laugh. "He asked you if you had a guy back home?"

Dena laughed as she nodded. "I know, silly, isn't it? Of course I said no, I mean, there's no way I'm ever even setting _foot_ on that backwards mudball again, much less go back to get married. So I say, 'No, I don't have a guy, here or anywhere else, Wedge.' And then he says, 'Well then, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner when I return?' Just like that. I almost felt like I was reading one of those sappy romances that human girls like so much."

"Hey…human here!" Leia reminded her, a tone of mock harshness in her voice.

"Oh, Leia, you're much too practical to read _those._" Leia didn't argue with Dena's amused dismissal, although she flushed the very slightest amount – she had uploaded a few of those 'sappy romances' to the _Falcon's_ recreational database just two weeks prior. "They're so silly."

Leia let that slide. "Well, what did you say?"

"I said sure, I'd love dinner. And I asked him where he wanted to go."

A wide grin spread over Leia's face, and she was suddenly surprised to realize that she had been sensing Dena's excitement this entire time, and part of her own giddiness was actually coming second-hand from the Twi'lek. She hadn't even noticed it, had in fact just taken the sensations as a matter of course – when had that happened? Just a few weeks ago that had been so very new, so very strange, and now it just seemed to be a natural thing for her to feel. She made a mental note to ask Anakin about that during their lesson today. "So where is he taking you?"

Dena's smile wavered a little, and Leia sensed a somewhat troubled confusion tinge her friend's excitement. "Well…that's kind of the funny part. He wouldn't say. When I asked him where he wanted to go, he told me to think of the most romantic getaway spot I could think of, anywhere in the galaxy, and when he got back we'd leave immediately. But he wouldn't let me set a date, or make reservations, or anything. He said we'd take care of that when he got back." A touch of worry tightened Dena's eyes, and she looked at Leia with a rapidly fading smile. "You don't think he's going to back out at the last moment, do you?"

It didn't take more than a few seconds of internal debate for Leia to make her decision. Dena had already witnessed more than enough to warrant her the truth about Wedge, classified mission or no classified mission. She'd handled Anakin's presence and their explanations with remarkable maturity. She hadn't made an issue out of the fact that she was trapped for an as yet undefined period of time with them on the _Falcon,_ since they were avoiding the Vegalles system and she had no easy way of getting there on her own. But most of all, Leia just couldn't continue lying to her friend.

"Dena, I have to tell-"

"Good day, ladies."

Leia and Dena looked up in surprise as Anakin entered the common cabin, smiling slightly at them and inclining his head respectfully.

"I should get cleaned up." Dena said, standing. She smiled faintly at Leia, an expression that didn't touch her eyes. "I'll talk to you later, Leia, all right?"

"Dena, you don't have to go." Leia realized the futility of her words even as she said them. She could clearly sense the strong unease Dena felt whenever Anakin entered the room, an emotion that actually bordered on outright fear.

"No, I really have too much to do," the Twi'lek said, retreating into the corridor. She inclined her head politely. "Good day, Master Anakin."

"_Denabe'eratt,"_ Anakin replied in a musical, lilting accent. Leia could see Dena's lips tighten at his pronunciation of her name, but the elegantly beautiful humanoid didn't say anything. Leia waited until her friend had left the room before speaking.

"Why do you do that?" Leia demanded after Dena had gone. Anakin looked at her quizzically.

"Do what?"

"Say her name that way." If Leia had no difficulty sensing how uncomfortable it made her friend, surely Anakin could feel it too. "Can't you tell that she doesn't like it?"

Anakin watched her curiously. "Do you know much about Twi'leks, Leia?"

"Enough," Leia replied. "And yes, I do know that you're pronouncing her name properly, but it obviously makes Dena uncomfortable."

Anakin sat down across from her in the seat that Dena had just recently vacated. "Do you know much about your friend's history, Leia?"

"I've told you that Dena doesn't like to talk about Ryloth, Anakin," Leia told him curtly. "Considering how they treat the women there, I can't say I blame her."

"Nor do I," Anakin agreed, "but until she makes mention of it herself, I am going to continue to use her proper name. A Twi'lek's name is very important to their clan…to break it up so that it's in separate, distinct pieces indicates that the individual is a criminal. It's a grave insult." He looked at her steadily. "I'm surprised you didn't know that."

Leia flushed. She _had_ known that, but she had become so accustomed to Dena that she had entirely forgotten that little bit of her friend's cultural oddity. "I did, actually," she said softly, "I suppose it never occurred to me…the idea that Dena was a criminal in her own society. She never talks about her past."

"Ryloth is a backwards society by much of the galaxy's standards, Leia, and I'm sure her transgression was entirely innocent from our point of view." Anakin shrugged. "A Twi'lek female can be labeled a criminal for simply resisting being sold into slavery."

Leia shuddered, her mind briefly going back to that short time that she had spent as a slave for Jabba the Hutt. There had been several Twi'lek females there, all dancers that Jabba had kept for his amusement. Leia didn't like to think about it.

"Point noted," she sighed as she looked at him. "So…are we getting started, then? Should I get ready to have a target droid singe a bit more of my skin off?"

"Not today," Anakin shook his head. "We're taking a break from lightsaber training for a while."

Leia looked at him warily. "Please don't tell me we're going to spend the entire day meditating."

Anakin laughed at that, a young, almost carefree sound that surprised Leia. Was it just her imagination, or did he seem more relaxed today? It almost seemed as if some sort of weight had been lifted from him. "No, we're not going to be spending the day in meditation, although you could probably use the practice."

"So, what _are_ we doing today?"

Confusion began to grow in Leia as she watched Anakin begin to pull various objects out of his pockets. There were several data-pads, a multi-spectral scanner, a couple of spare circuit boards, and even the burned out shell of a faulty blaster. Anakin finished piling these on the table, and then smiled at her.

"All right…"Leia said cautiously. "What, we're doing a seasonal cleaning?"

"No," Anakin said, amusement in his voice. "Although I think this ship could use one, that's not the plan either."

"Then what _is_ the plan?" Leia picked up the multi-spectral scanner, looked at it for a moment, and then frowned at Anakin. "Because you've completely lost me."

"We've been focusing on lightsaber training, but I think I might have been going about this wrong." Anakin folded his hands on the table and looked at her earnestly. "Your strengths lie in a different direction than mine did when I was first learning."

"All right," Leia nodded. "So what's all this junk for?"

"The Force surrounds all things, creating a link between us and everything else in the galaxy," Anakin said. His eyes fell on the scanner she still held, and he lifted his hand, palm curved slightly over the tool. It floated out of her hand and into the air, spinning lazily as he twirled his fingers. "We're going to see how well you can sense that link, and see if you can begin to manipulate it."

This wasn't the first time Leia had seen this power used to shift objects in space, but it was the first time she had seen it since she had begun to actively learn the ways of the Force. She watched Anakin carefully, both his physical movements and the soft ripples he sent into the Force, trying to catch every delicate nuance of what he was doing. The scanner spun one last time and dropped gently to the table.

"Are you ready to begin?"

Leia nodded, surprised at the excitement she suddenly felt. _This_ was something she understood, the concept of interconnectivity simple for her to grasp in a way that the precognizant swordplay hadn't been. "Yes."

"All right…lets start with the calming techniques…"

Leia rolled her eyes and groaned, surprising herself a little with her impatience. "I thought we weren't going to be meditating today."

Anakin looked at her ruefully. "Well, not exclusively, but this is a new skill for you, Leia…you're not going to be able to jump right in without any preparation at all."

She glanced at him questioningly. "Why not?"

He opened his mouth…and then closed it. "Well, because…"Anakin floundered for a moment, and Leia had to resist the urge to laugh. He looked completely flustered. "Because you can't, that's why," he finally finished lamely.

"That's not an answer, Anakin," she said with amusement.

Anakin looked at her, one eyebrow shooting up. "All right, have it your way, Leia." He waved his hand out and sat back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "Be my guest. Let's see what you can do."

"All right," Leia grinned, and almost immediately the expression died on her face. A moment ago it had seemed so simple, as she had watched him guide the currents of the Force to spin the scanner in mid-air, but now that she was trying to recreate the same effect she found the image slipping from her mind. She stared at the scanner, hard, but the currents she tried to coax into grasping the scanner evaded her, dancing away from her thoughts more quickly that she was even able to sense them. Leia bit her lip in frustration.

Across the table, Anakin laughed softly. "It's not so easy, is it?"

"I'm _trying,"_ she snapped, anda flash of irritated anger illuminated her thoughts. Suddenly Leia could feel the Force start to bend in accord with her will, her mind exerting a cold control over the eddies of the power she sensed, and a fierce joy filled her as she _seized_ that power –

_"STOP!"_

Anakin's shout was loud enough that Leia jumped several inches into the air, her heart pounding in her chest as the Force disappeared from her mind. She glared at him furiously. She'd almost had it!

"Why in the galaxy did you…do…" Leia's voice, which had been raised in an annoyed anger, trailed off. The look of pure terror on Anakin's face made her own throat tighten in fear. "What?"

"Couldn't you feel it?" he asked strengthlessly. "Leia, couldn't you tell the _difference_?"

She opened her mouth to say no, but the protestation died before ever being uttered. Any protest she made would have been a lie. Leia _had_ been able to tell the difference. There had been an unmistakable change in how her mind had related to the Force for that small moment of time, as if she had ceased to be working with the power around her and had begun to force it to submit to her. She had been _demanding_ that the power be given to her, _compelling_ it to obey…. and it had been easy.

So very, very easy.

And what's more…it had felt good. It had felt _wonderful_.

"It was the Dark side, wasn't it, " she said softly. It wasn't a question. Leia looked at Anakin, noting that his frantic alarm was still present on his face and in his thoughts. She felt her own panic flutter like a caged bird in the back of her mind. "I touched the Dark side."

Anakin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again to meet her gaze, his blue eyes were very clear. "Yes. You touched it." He leaned forward, his voice sincere. "But that's all, Leia. You didn't channel it. You didn't let it fill you. You just…touched it. For the briefest of moments. That's all."

"But-"

"It was my fault, not yours," Anakin insisted, and he sighed deeply, running his hands through his wavy brown hair. "I shouldn't have teased you. I'm sorry, Leia. _It wasn't your fault."_

But Leia knew that wasn't entirely true. It had been _her_ anger that had allowed her to grasp the Force as she had, her _own_ strength that had made the living energy field bow to her will. For the first time, she had tasted the pure, cold power of the Dark side…and everything she had thought she'd known shattered into a thousand frozen shards of razor-sharp confusion.

"I think I'd like to try meditating, Anakin," she said softly. When Leia looked up, she could see her father's impossibly young face blurring as tears fought to well up in her eyes. "I think I'd like that very much right now."

Anakin reached over and grasped her small hand lightly. It was the first gesture of affection that they had shared, and Leia surprised herself by clinging tightly to her father, her fingers clutching his as if they could somehow tether her to the Light itself.

"It's all right, Leia." Anakin squeezed her hand gently, and Leia continued to hold onto him, finding a strange comfort in that slight contact. Anakin's voice was very soft. "It's all right."

Leia could only wish that she truly believed that.

**End of Part 11**


	12. Chapter 12

**EDIT: 8-6-05 - I changed the conversation between Eivel and Vesra a bit to expand on some of the way Darth Eivel has been viewed by the Imperials. It gives a bit more insight into Eivels character, Vesra's character, and the climate on the Deathstar.**

Oh, and regarding the Eivel name rather than the Vader name (Tigger889) I did it this way 'cause the way I interpreted the "Darth" names were as titles. They seemed to be arbitrarily bestowed by the Sith Master, though there's probably some EU thing to explain it. But the movies didn't really explain it, so I just kinda went with making up a new name. Plus, that way it was easy to differentiate between Luke and Anakin.

**Now returning to your regularly scheduled update…. **

I'm sorry this part has taken so long!

Don't worry, I totally haven't lost interest in writing this story (golly, that sounded stuck up. Like people are sitting around just waiting for me to update. Anyone got a safety pin to prick my ego with? Pyxelle grins Oh well!)

My work has just been _too_ interested in giving me mandatory overtime. Coupled with the fact that this chapter was very hard to write, time seemed to slip away from me much faster than I realized it was.

But this part is extra long (if that's good or bad I don't know, it just ended up that way) so at least I'm updating with a lot of material!

* * *

**The Souls of Demons **

**Chapter 12 **

**_By Pyxelle _**

"Have you ever been betrayed by someone you love?"

Though he didn't turn to look at him, Darth Eivel could sense the worried shock that Vesra felt at his question. "I'm not sure what you mean, my lord," the captain said slowly.

"Of course you know what I mean, Captain." Eivel smiled without humor. "It's a simple enough question, with a simple answer. Yes or no."

There was a long moment of silence. "Lord Eivel, if I may respectfully disagree," Vesra said slowly, "I don't believe it _is_ a simple question. Not at all."

"No?" Eivel shrugged. "How so?"

Captain Vesra was quiet for a few seconds. "Well, if you love someone, I mean truly love someone, then I believe you would be unable of consciously betraying them. If you were capable of committing an act of betrayal against that individual, then you never actually loved them in the first place."

Darth Eivel nodded thoughtfully. _If only that were true._ "Then you would have to believe that there is no love, that the very existence of love is a myth."

"Why do you say that, my lord?"

"Because I can't think of a single person in this galaxy that I've ever met who is free from the seeds of betrayal. Even those we care for more than our own lives have that potential for treachery. It's mortal nature."

"My lord, my I speak my mind?" Captain Vesra stopped. "If you really would like an honest answer, then I would like permission to speak freely."

They had been walking along the corridor together, on their way out of the Imperial Hangar after Eivel's final review of the _Nyx_. As usual, Darth Eivel had found his executive officer's work to be impeccable. He turned slightly to face him now. "Permission granted, Captain. You have me quite curious."

There was a long moment before Vesra spoke.

"I believe that it is one of the great tragedies of existence, my lord. Those who betray the ones they care for do not see their actions as acts of betrayal; in most cases they honestly believe that they are doing what is right. Even what is _moral_. Therein lies that essential tragedy. While we may do things in the name of love that others see as acts of wanton treachery, in our own minds our actions are not only justifiable, but often unavoidable." Vesra gave Darth Eivel a thin smile. "If only we could step outside our own narrow perceptions of the world, if we could only take off these blinders that emotions put on us, I believe we'd find that true betrayal is possibly the most rare occurrence in the galaxy."

Darth Eivel began to walk again, his hands clasped behind his back, and Vesra fell into step along with him. "A very interesting viewpoint, Captain. I didn't know you had such a romantic streak in you."

"Hardly romantic," Vesra laughed humorlessly. "The unfortunate reality of the galaxy is that it doesn't matter what you believe or however you choose to justify your actions…the consequences are inevitably the same."

Eivel cast a sideways look at Captain Vesra. "You sound as if you speak from experience."

"Not precisely experience, my lord," Vesra shrugged lightly. "I suppose you were somewhat right about a romantic streak. I do have a bit of one, leastwise as far as my interests are concerned. Try reading the literature of virtually any planet, and you'll find the same themes played out over and over again. The great tragedies of any culture share a disquieting similarity…that of love and betrayal. It's nearly a galactic truth."

"Really?" Lord Eivel cocked an eyebrow at him. "I will have to look into that, Captain. A lot can be said for studying a race's culture, and a predominant theme throughout many species is definitely worth looking into."

Though Vesra's face remained smooth, Eivel could sense the brief surprise at his words. "I can feel you're startled at my interest, Captain…I had hoped you hadn't believed any of the rumors, though I'm sure you must have heard them."

"Rumors?" The sense of surprise darkened to a bleak gray worry that hung from Captain Vesra like a wisp of fog. "What rumors, my lord?"

" 'That Skywalker boy's just a trained attack dog the Emperor's amusing himself with' is one I know I've heard," the youngSith recited without emotion."'Vader's bastard' was pretty common to hear around corners for a while, although that one doesn't seem to be as popular since Lord Vader's defection." Darth Eivel had to suppress grim amusement at the shock that even Captain Vesra's trained composure couldn't fully hide. "I guess the one I'm thinking of now would have to be the general opinion of my intelligence, Captain. How do they put it? I'm a 'half-witted back-planet farm boy who's been taught a few parlor tricks by Palpatine?'"

Vesra's mouth was an open "o" of shock that snapped shut audibly when Eivel allowed his sardonic smile to surface.

"Of course I don't think that, my lord! I would never-"

"Relax, Captain Vesra," Eivel let his smile take on a more sincere tone and stopped. They had reached the Imperial chambers. "I know you don't give credence to the gossip. We've worked together enough that I would know. But don't insult me by saying you haven't heard it."

"I…" Vesra couldn't seem to speak.

"You're wondering why I allow it?"

Captain Vesra nodded after a moment of continuing to stare wide-eyed at his commander. Eivel could still sense his fear, but it was waning now.

"Captain, I've been with the Empire a little more than a year. Most of that time I've been training intensively with the Emperor, and only in the last few months have I been very much in the political arena. I really didn't care what they thought of me in the beginning, and I know that opinions will change in time. After all, if you remember, there was some…difficulties, shall we say, when I first began working with you on the _Annihilator_. Those did not last long once I made it clear it would not be tolerated."

Vesra swallowed audibly. Eivel wondered if he was remembering the example that had to have been made of the original captain. "No, they did not, my lord."

"I can't be so blunt on the Deathstar, Captain…and the Emperor would not be very pleased if I used one of those 'parlor tricks' on one of his generals. The population of a Star Destroyer is a very different one than that of a battle station."

"That is true, my Lord. Still, I wish to say-"

Darth Eivel favored Vesra with a genuinely warm smile. "You have nothing to be concerned about, Captain Vesra. I have no doubts about your loyalties."

"Thank you, Lord Eivel."

"I don't have many people I can rely on anymore, Captain. It can make life difficult." Eivel sighed as he glanced towards the door to the Emperor's chambers. His mind began to resonate with disquieting thoughts that started to push their conversation out of his head. "I suppose I'll let you get to your duties, Captain, and I will do the same. The Emperor is expecting me."

As it always did with nearly all of the crew, the mere mention of the Emperor made Vesra pale. "Of course, sir. I do have quite a bit to do."

Darth Eivel entered the room quietly, noting absently that the red-robed guards had already left but dismissing the thought. There was too much happening in the back of his own mind to give that fact much importance.

Oddly enough, during his conversation with Captain Vesra on the nature of betrayal, Eivel had not thought of Leia or Han, but of Wedge Antilles, who even now was still in the room adjacent to the Emperor's chambers. The pilot's words still echoed in his head.

_You're not my friend._

Why had those four words affected him so much?

"Come, Lord Eivel." Emperor Palpatine walked from where he had been staring out of the Deathstar's windows to watch him curiously. "I sense that your thoughts have been troubled of late. Please, speak with me. You have been away from your lessons for far too long."

"Yes, Master." Eivel knelt briefly to the Emperor before joining him.

Darth Sidious did not look at him. "I felt your confusion earlier, my young apprentice, when you visited that Rebel pilot. You were friends once, am I correct?"

"Yes," Eivel didn't really want to remember, but he knew the Emperor expected an answer. "We fought together in Rogue Squadron."

"You depended on each other. Trusted each other with your lives." The Emperor looked at him intently, and when he spoke, his voice was almost kind. "It can be difficult to let go of the past we cling so tightly to. But we must always remember our duty. And we must always be aware that duty compels us to make sacrifices from time to time."

"I know."

The Emperor waited a long moment before speaking again. "There's something else, isn't there? You are conflicted not just about your former friend, but something larger…aren't you." It was a statement of fact, not a question. "About…the Jenuiite. Am I correct?"

Eivel couldn't answer right away, and when he finally did, he found he could not meet the Emperor's piercing gaze. "I gave orders to sterilize the planet. It would have been an acceptable loss if the planet had been a colonized planet with a small population. Its destruction would have been an example to other systems where illegal activity was given a blind eye by the local authorities."

"Only you neglected to check the Jenuiite population census, didn't you." Again, it was not a question. Darth Eivel tried to tamp down the irritation he felt at Sidious's casual invasion of his thoughts. "And the population was much greater than you expected."

Eivel nodded. "Over three billion individuals. Not only that, but they were a symbiotic race. The only place they could live was on that specific planet. I inadvertently committed genocide when I gave those orders."

"I see." The Emperor walked over to his throne-like chair and sat, looking at Eivel through the folds of his cloak. "I sense a great deal of guilt in you, about both the Rebel pilot and the Jenuiite. It is an emotion I have not felt in you for quite some time. I had thought you had put your guilt behind you."

"So had I," Eivel said softly.

"Guilt is a useless emotion, remember that, my young apprentice. It gnaws at the mind and weakens the spirit." The Emperors eyes glittered at Eivel like fiery jewels. "Release your guilt. Embrace the Dark side and let it wash these pointless regrets from your mind."

"It's not that easy!" Eivel was surprised at himself even as he spoke. "I destroyed an entire _race._ Everything. _The Jenuiite no longer exist because of me."_

The Emperor seemed unperturbed by Eivel's outburst. "It may have been an error in judgment, Lord Eivel," he said coldly, "but remember your lessons. Great power requires great sacrifices…and makes our errors affect things on a great scale."

"But-"

"Release it!" Darth Sidious stood abruptly, any pretense of weakness fleeing from his form. "This is no time to be developing a coward's conscience! The end of the Rebellion is near, and to ensure our victory _we must not falter!"_

Darth Eivel felt his Master draw the Dark side of the Force deeply into him, and despite himself felt the first stirrings of fear. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sidious never gave him the chance.

"Remember who you are!" the Emperor said in a harsh voice, which while quiet still carried the weight of a thousand stars in it. "You are Darth Eivel, Lord of the Sith, and now the Heir to the Empire! I will _not_ accept your weakness! You are my chosen successor, and you _will_ be strong!"

Darth Sidious thrust his hands out and a sudden jagged fork of lightning struck Darth Eivel. His body was abruptly airborne, sailing across the room to crash painfully into the bulkhead. Despite the force of the impact, Eivel twisted his body agilely, dropping in a four-limbed crouch, his fingertips just barely touching the immaculate floors of the Emperor's chambers. Automatically he reached out to the Force, letting the Dark side boil through him and feeling its cold flames burn the blood in his veins. He glared up at his Master through slitted amber eyes, the primal fury of the Dark side leeching the humanity from his normally blue-eyed gaze. His lips pulled back in a feral snarl, baring his teeth.

If he could have seen himself, he would have realized that he looked more like a caged predatory beast than a man.

The Emperor watched him icily. "You should have been able to avoid that. The weakness you have allowed to grow in your soul sickens me."

"If you recall, _Master_, " Darth Eivel hissed, never leaving his predatory crouch, "you have not yet seen fit to teach me that particular power."

"You have seen me use it." Darth Sidious stood over him and regarded him as if he were some sort of insect barely worthy of his notice. "If you cannot learn it through observing its reflection in the Force, by feeling the echoes it creates in the Dark side, then perhaps I have overestimated you."

Another jolt of lightning coursed through his body, and dimly Darth Eivel could see his Master's cruel smile. His back arched, his spine cracking painfully, but his animalistic gaze never left the Emperor. He simply stared at the Emperor as he forced himself to ignore the agonizing energy that threatened to destroy him.

Darth Sidious released the power he had been channeling. "Very good, my young apprentice. Perhaps I did not overestimate you after all." He gave Eivel a cold, hard smile. "Shall we continue the lesson?"

"Please do, Master," Darth Eivel growled low in his throat. He had nearly seen how Darth Sidious had manipulated the Force to create the currents of pure power he had felt, a power that was fueled by the very essence of the Dark side of the Force itself. If he only had the chance to observe it again, he might be able to pick up the subtle nuances that allowed his Master to control such awesome power. He opened himself completely to the Dark side, letting it roil through his mind and spirit until he felt he would burst from the raw energy burning within him.

Darth Eivel steeled himself for pain.

"Continue the lesson, my Master," he said through clenched teeth. "I'm sure it will be most…_educational_."

**OoooOoooO**

Anakin couldn't sleep.

His mind couldn't seem to let go of Leia's lesson. He couldn't seem to get the picture of her shocked and frightened face to dim in his thoughts. His own stomach still tightened with an oily nausea as he recalled the cold pleasure she had exuded when she had briefly touched the Dark side. It was a feeling he knew well, and he knew that most of Leia's reaction to what had happened today was because of that pleasure. She knew now what he had to fight against, what her brother had been helpless to, and what she must still face within herself.

Even so…that was not what was keeping Anakin from sleeping.

What was causing his insomnia was the fact that briefly, ever so briefly, the demon within him had uncoiled and reared its head again, burning with a fierce excitement when he had felt his daughter give in to her baser instincts. That demon still slumbered within him now, quieter after the hours of meditation but nonetheless still curling its bloody claws around his heart. Leia didn't know how close she had come to being lost to the Dark side, not because of her _own_ weakness but because of _his_. The urge to push her further, to encourage her anger to blossom had been nearly overwhelming. His frantic halting of her actions was panicked not only because of _her_ brush with evil but also because of his _own_ near lapse back into darkness.

A part of him, a much larger part that he would want to give credence to, still urged him to submit. That part whispered to him with a black seduction…_don't resist, teach her what she is truly capable of, remember the power, remember it, oh, remember how sweet it is, remember what it feels like to let the darkness swell within you, let it consume you, feel it submit to you…_

It tantalized him even now, the demon in his breast still hungry for that power, and in a desperate effort to deny the darkness he kept his thoughts as far away from the Force as he possibly could. He wished there was a way to excise that demon from his soul the way a surgeon would a malignant growth…after all, what was this weakness of spirit if not the very cancer of the soul?

Anakin knew he would have to give serious thought to where they proceeded with the lessons from here. Leia's experience would not leave her unscarred, and when dealing the primal powers of the universe one could not afford to indulge doubt. She still needed to keep her confidence, still needed to feel secure in herself, and from what Anakin had sensed earlier that self-assurance was all but lost. Leia was terrified, and Anakin was at a loss as to how he was to help her through it.

When he had been Obi-Wan's padawan, despite the close mentor/student relationship, there had been numerous other resources for Obi-Wan to use in aiding Anakin's training. He still remembered lessons from numerous Jedi, even from Master Yoda himself. It had been nearly a rite of passage for the younger padawans to attend a lightsaber demonstration with Master Yoda, where the Jedi Master would demonstrate his skills against a larger and apparently stronger opponent that seemed destined to win. Inevitably the small green alien would triumph, and the younglings would be taught an important lesson.

"Not by appearance must you judge your opponent," Master Yoda would say after thoroughly defeating whomever he had been sparring against. He would often lean heavily on his small staff while speaking, the very image of frailty. "_Within_ is where our true worth lies, and from the spirit our strength is, not our flesh. A Jedi's strength flows from the Force. Size matters not. Not always what they seem, outward appearances are. Even in battle, when our skills with our lightsabers are tested, forget that truth we must not."

Master Yoda and the other Jedi Knights were all dead and gone now. Anakin had no resources to help him in the training of his daughter. Even his own training was somewhat lost in the dark recesses of his mind. After being denied all these years, Anakin found the lessons that he had learned from those dead Jedi Knights coming to his memory only reluctantly. He could not turn to them for guidance.

Anakin sat up sharply in his bed, an idea coming to him so quickly it seemed almost alien, as if it wasn't his thought at all but originated instead from somewhere else and had merely been placed in his mind. There _was_ a way he could turn to them for guidance…at least, in a manner of speaking.

"Lights," he said into the darkness, swinging his legs over the cot and standing. The lights came on obediently, and he went over to the small computer console that was recessed into one wall. His fingers flew over the keypad, and a small smile began to form on his face. _It's not that far, we could make it in just a few days…_

He was so engrossed in his search that he heard the door open before he sensed that someone was entering his quarters. The fact that he was stubbornly ignoring the Force had most likely dulled his senses. He glanced up at the noise, turning slightly to see who had entered. His son-in-law strode into the room, across the threshold before the door had even fully opened.

"Captain Solo, I-"

His words were cut short by Solo's curled fist smashing into his mouth. Anakin's head rocked back, stars exploding in his vision, and he could taste coppery blood begin to fill his mouth. At first he was too stunned to react at all. Instead his hand clapped protectively over his mouth and he simply stared incredulously at the raging Rebel general. Solo's face was nearly purple with the tight emotion that filled it. The _Falcon's_ captain drew his hand back, ready for another strike. But this time Anakin was ready and he dropped to the ground, swinging his right leg in a wide circle to strike behind the rebel's knees and sending Solo to the ground. The rebel hit the floor heavily. Despite the jar of the impact, he rolled ably, springing to his feet and whipping around to face Anakin again.

Fury exploded in Anakin, amorphous but strong, and a red haze began to mar his vision. _How dare he?_ Anakin felt himself curl his lip in a snarl, and reached through the rage to the beckoning energies of the Force.

What was nearly his undoing, however, was actually what saved him from grasping that dark energy. Mere microseconds before the Dark side would have flowed through him the awful fear Solo felt for his wife was plainly evident to Anakin, washing across Anakin's senses in a tidal wave of black terror. In a flash he realized that the man's fury stemmed from his desperate love for Leia. It didn't change the fact that the man was quite seriously trying to beat Anakin within an inch of his life, but it did give Anakin that one feeble thread to cling to. He swung his hands up and fell into a defensive posture, feeling the Dark side crash in wild waves against the thin shields of his mind. His body trembled as he used every ounce of his self-control to keep those dark waves at bay, trying desperately to shun the angry flames that licked at his soul.

Solo didn't have the agility that Anakin did, nor the prescient senses of the Jedi, but Anakin knew only too well what the human body could do when seized by great emotion. He didn't strike back at his son-in-law, instead dodging the general's fist, whirling aside so that the intended blow struck not him but rather impacted the bulkhead. Anakin winced as he heard the cracking sound that told him Solo had probably broken several of his knuckles with that strike.

Perhaps it was the pain of the blow, or the fact that Anakin wasn't fighting back, but some semblance of awareness touched the raging man's eyes. Anakin backed up, still keeping his hands in a defensive posture. His lips were split and he could feel the blood filling his mouth but he didn't think that he had lost any teeth, though he surely wouldn't be reciting any poetry for a few days. Absurdly he wondered how long he would be speaking with a lisp. He pushed the random thought away, realizing that blood had pooled under his tongue, and without thinking he spat red onto the floor. Solo ignored it.

"What did you do to her?" he growled at Anakin, moving forward but keeping his hands still at his sides. Anakin took that as a good sign and although he didn't let his guard down, he did relax his posture ever so slightly. His hands still shook as he tried to force the anger Solo had roused in him down, but now that the physical threat had lessened so had the call of the Dark side, if only marginally. The former Jedi would take what he could get right now.

Anakin wondered briefly if Solo had any idea of the tightrope he was being forced to walk. Probably not. Mindless fury was exactly that – _mindless_. Whatever had created this rage had not been deliberate or cold, it had been a reaction to something.

_What did you do to her?_ The man had said. _Leia_…

"Answer me!" Solo ordered harshly. Though it must have caused him tremendous pain, Anakin could see his bleeding hand tighten back in to a ready fist. The former Jedi Knight called upon all his self-control to face the captain with some semblance of calm.

"What happened to Leia?" he asked through rapidly swelling lips. He needed to cool Solo's temper before he could hope to discuss it with him. Too often anger was contagious, like a virulent disease that corroded the soul instead of the body. Anakin was struggling with the demon inside him already, fighting an internal battle of epic and bloody proportions while at the same time trying to bring this external battle to a halt.

The rebel general did not answer. Anakin clearly saw the loathing in Solo's eyes, and felt an answering hatred curl like black smoke within him. He could almost hear the Dark side whispering to him, and in his mind's eyes he saw just how easily he could end this. He could just reach out and tighten the flows of the Force around Solo's weak and defenseless throat. It would be exceedingly simple to crush Solo's windpipe, forcing his breathing to stop and letting Anakin _(Vader)_ watch the life ebb away from the man's body under the superior strength the Force granted him. A cruel smile tugged at the corners of Anakin's lips as in his mind's eye he watched the flickering images of this man's slow death, and for a moment Anakin felt the demon inside him exult. His flimsy mental walls wobbled, the fabric of his shields at first stretching and then beginning to tear.

_Release it, release the hatred, revel in your anger, free yourself from these chains you bind yourself with, accept the power, control it, revel in it... _The demon's voice grew strong, and Darth Vader began to smile. The Sith's will tightened for a moment...

...and then was released, forced away fiercely. Anakin's breath caught in panic even as his focus lost cohesion, its strength robbed by the rage draining from Solo's face like milk draining down the inside of a glass. Solo himself took a deep, shaky breath before dropping to sit on Anakin's cot, holding his head in his hands.

Though Anakin was nearly hyperventilating as he tore his mind away from the images in his head in horror, Solo either didn't notice it or chose to ignore it. "I don't know what the hell I am supposed to do." His voice was soft, and Anakin didn't really think the words were really meant for him. Solo seemed to be speaking almost to himself. "How the hell am I supposed to protect her when I don't even really know what I'm protecting her _from?"_

Anakin's heart began to slow its frantic beating, and the demon howled impotently as his self-control began to reassert itself. He sat in the single chair in the small room, as far away from the _Falcon's_ captain as possible, and watched him warily. Despite his apparent abandonment of violence, Anakin knew that the reactions of a man in love could be quite explosive when they concerned the object of that love.

Solo continued to speak, staring blankly at the floor. "She won't talk to me, she won't tell me what's hurting, she won't even let me hold her when she's frightened. How the _hell_ am I supposed to handle that? I'm so scared for her, so goddamned scared...and sometimes, I'm even scared _of_…I don't know. Everything."

Anakin waited through a few moments of silence before speaking. He knew that Solo had not finished his last sentence out loud in the same way as he had in the privacy of his own mind. Anakin also thought he knew how it _would_ have ended.

_I'm even scared_ of _her._

When he finally spoke, Anakin's voice was hesitant. "What happened?"

Across the room, Solo's head snapped up almost in surprise, as if he had forgotten that Anakin was still there. "Nothing. _Everything_. I don't know. She won't talk to me about it. She just…she just keeps shutting me out."

An uncomfortable memory spun across Anakin's thoughts, so vivid that he almost could see Padme's gentle beauty. _Don't do this. Don't shut me out._

Solo rubbed his hand absently, wincing as if he had just realized that there was pain. Anakin could sense the whirling tumult of emotions within his son-in-law, predominantly colored by a stark black fear and desperate worry but also tinged with midnight resentment and a fiery red anger. Surprisingly, Anakin realized that for some reason most of that anger wasn't directed at him, but inwards. The man's true anger was reserved for himself.

_Because he can't help her, and he feels that he has to. He really loves Leia...he'd probably throw himself and his precious ship into the raging heart of the galaxy itself if he felt it would save her._

Anakin felt another starburst of warped companionship with Solo flower in him. His mind sideslipped as he watched his son-in-law's cocky guise fall away from him. For the first time he thought he could begin to understand what Leia saw in this man.

Though he didn't show it in the same way Anakin had, the fallen Jedi knew that Han loved Leia with all the fire Anakin had held for Padme.

No, that wasn't quite right. Anakin revised his thinking. Han loved Leia with a devotion that rivaled Padme's own devotion to _Anakin_…and Leia was building the same walls around herself that her father had.

Like father, like daughter.

"Did she tell you about what happened today?" Anakin asked cautiously. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but he felt he had to do something. Han had remained here for a reason. Anakin wasn't quite sure of what that reason was, but sensed that at least some part of the rebel general wanted to speak with him. Perhaps it was not a conscious decision, but somewhere, perhaps deep within him, the desire was still there.

Han looked at him, his eyes tightening. "No. When I asked her earlier how her training went she burst into tears for nearly an hour, but wouldn't tell me anything. She's asleep now – I made her take a somnaltab, even though she doesn't like them. I don't think she's slept for more than a few hours every night for weeks. But even with the sleeping aid she keeps crying in her sleep. That's happened since Lu…since we lost her brother, but she hasn't stopped all night. That's never happened before."

On the edges of his senses, Anakin could just feel Leia's grief. She had learned her shielding well, maybe too well. He had to strain to sense her. Even in her sleep, she cloaked her pain and fear, and Anakin knew she did it to protect the ones she loved from knowing how much she still hurt inside. But there was some other thought passing ever so slightly in her mind, some sort of timid curiosity…and Anakin felt himself tighten as he met Han's gaze.

"There's something else, though, isn't there." There was no question in Anakin's voice. "You didn't come in here with the intention of wiping the floor with me because she's crying. Something else happened."

Han looked at him with barely restrained anger. "No, that's not all. I stayed up for a while after she went to bed. I had some work to do. But when I went to bed I guess I must've frightened her…at least I _startled_ her, that's for sure…because she….she…I don't know…struck out at me, I guess would be the best way to say it. Without ever laying a finger on me, she tossed me across the room like I was a rag doll." The movement was slight, but Anakin swore he saw the man shiver. "She woke up then, and I could tell she felt awful…she just kept apologizing over and over…but…somehow…" Han's words had been getting quieter and quieter, and now his voice trailed off completely.

But Anakin knew what would have come next.

"Somehow, you could tell that a part of her wasn't the least bit sorry," Anakin finished for him softly. "That some part of her felt no remorse at all."

"Yeah," Han said, still not looking at Anakin.

A strange silence fell over them, not exactly a companionable silence but rather a resigned moment of shared contemplation. Anakin didn't believe that Leia had truly used the Dark side to strike out at her husband. He was still much too attuned to it to have missed someone channeling it so near to him. It still didn't change the fact that she had reacted instinctively with violence. And that fact was leaving Anakin with a dilemma that he had no clue how to solve. Was he going to be able to help his daughter learn to use the Force and resist the Dark side…or was he only speeding her into it?

He wasn't really sure how much time passed until he spoke. When he did, he forced himself to look at his daughter's husband, despite the fact that Han still was staring at the ground with a look of hopeless frustration on his face.

"The Jedi Order forbid marriage amongst its' Knights many years ago," Han's head jerked up and Anakin caught his eyes. Their gazes stayed locked for a moment. "They forbid attachment of any kind, but personal attachment to another human being was probably the strongest directive of all. Personal attachment to another inevitably brings with it passion, jealousy, fear…all emotions that can lead to the Dark side. A Jedi was not even allowed love."

Han rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Because love is such a terrible thing, right?"

His words may have been sardonic, but Anakin nodded at them. "Love is a beautiful thing in and of itself. But the attachments and inevitable possessiveness that can accompany it make it very dangerous to those who can manipulate the Force."

A touch of curiosity entered Han's face, and although Anakin could easily sense his reluctance to utter the thoughts in his head, Han spoke. "Why? What is it about this double-damned "Force" that can turn people into monsters? How did it twist Luke so terribly? How did it destroy _you?_"

A million answers to that question played with Anakin's thoughts, but not one of them actually explained it. _I don't even really know myself, and I've been on both sides of the board!_ Anakin thought helplessly to himself as he struggled to formulate an answer for the _Falcon's _captain. Anakin opened his mouth to talk.

The words were never given life. Anakin's mind reeled as a great shock swallowed him. It wasas if a bolt of lightning was striking him, not just once but repeatedly, searing the flesh of his mind over and over and over. Dimly he realized that Han had flown to his feet and was now looking down at him, his face a mixture of automatic concern for a fellow human being and that wary distrust that he felt towards Anakin.

These things crossed Anakin's mind just enough to make their presence known but he didn't dwell on those thoughts. Now that the initial shock was done, Anakin could more easily identify what was happening.

Throughout this conversation Anakin had been pushing the tides of the Dark side away, denying it his attention with every fiber of his being. But the Dark side was not easily ignored, and even after Anakin had felt he was fairly in control of himself he had still felt the lure the Force teased him with. He had been more than aware enough of the Dark side to feel the massive tidal waves that made his stomach clench with a sick longing.

_Something is happening…some great change…_Anakin was a passive observer, watching these ripples in the Dark side but not touching them. That made it nearly impossible for him to explore what was happening and left him virtually unable to discern much more than the fact that some sort of immense flux was echoing throughout the galaxy.

_I can touch it briefly…just to see…I don't have to use it. Not knowing what is causing this could be extremely dangerous, and as long as I keep my intentions firmly in my mind I could use the Dark side just briefly, just enough so that I can ensure that Leia is safe…_

Even as the thoughts formed Anakin fought to deny them. If he submitted to his baser natures, even for a noble purpose, then that part of him that was still Vader would win.

_But…_

Another massive wave rolled over him, and Anakin felt a horribly familiar presence come with it. It wasn't traveling with it, exactly, instead that presence seemed to be_ permeating _the Dark side of the Force itself.

It was a presence that Anakin knew only too well. He felt the blood drain from his face and his veins turned to ice.

"Luke, no," he whispered.

**OoooOoooO**

"Here endeth the lesson."

Darth Eivel stared up, a drop of salty sweat stinging his eyes but that being lost in the painful echoes of the Sith Lord's stormy tutorial. He stood slowly, the pain begging him to collapse. Instead of submitting to its demands, he held himself straight, proud, and he felt no fear as he stared at his Master's retreating form. They both still held the Force strongly within themselves, although Darth Eivel knew that the Emperor's hold on the Dark side was light, almost casual, while his own grip on it was nearly desperate. A part of him felt that it was his connection to that universal power that was allowing him to stand at all.

Darth Sidious sat in his chair, an amused expression still playing on his face. His deformed features didn't look as if the hours they had just spent together had touched him even mildly. "I am pleased with your performance today, my young apprentice, even if it was your weakness that prompted the lesson."

"Thank you, my Master," Eivel said, the words rough as he spoke through his raw throat. The sentiment was true, despite the agonizing pain Eivel knew would last for some time to come. One did not suffer the direct flows of power from the Dark side of the Force for hours on end and not feel the effects from it. But it had been worth the pain. Darth Eivel believed he knew what it was that allowed Darth Sidious to control that power now, and though he had not duplicated it during their "lesson" he felt confident that he would be able to do so with little to no difficulty.

"And your troublesome guilt…I feel that has been…resolved, am I correct?"

"Yes, Master." That at least was true. Whatever lingering remorse he had felt over the last few days was indeed gone. Again, Darth Sidious had not lied when he had told his pupil that the Dark side would allow him to look at things more clearly. It washed the nagging emotions from his mind cleanly, allowing him to look at what needed to be done with the cold clarity that had become familiar to him. A faint regret still clung to the image of Wedge Antilles, but it was a shadow such as many that Darth Eivel had become accustomed to. Despite any friendship or history he had shared at one time with the Rebel pilot, Antilles was no longer useful to him or to the Empire. That was what was important.

_You're not my friend._

Darth Eivel ignored the phantom voice of his memory and simply stared at the Emperor, very aware of the way the Force still crackled in the room. The strong eddies of power were almost palpable in the darkened chamber. He pushed the pain down into a dark corner of his mind, wrapping it in his cold anger until it was dim, unimportant. The moment seemed to stretch on forever.

Finally Eivel spoke. "It was all part of the lesson, wasn't it, my Lord?" he asked quietly, his eyes never leaving the Emperor. "Wedge Antilles, the lab you kept from my knowledge…it was a test. A test to see how much of me was still tethered to my old life."

"Now why would you say that?" The Emperor's voice left no doubt in Eivel's mind that his deductions were correct. His tone was entirely too pleased for doubt.

"You knew of my history with Captain Antilles. And I know you sensed my reaction to the Jenuiite incident." That, at least, no longer persisted in taunting his conscience now. In retrospect, there would be consequences to his actions that would sometimes be greater than he had anticipated. It had been perhaps his hardest lesson to learn yet, but he knew that broadening the scope of his thoughts was the only way to keep his sanity intact.

He _had_ to remember…coordinates on a map, nothing more. Identification numbers, _not_ individuals. Pieces on a playing board. _Remember how to play the game_.

After all, the human mind, even one aided by the immense power of the Force, was not capable of comprehending the entirety of the galaxy. One needed to find a way to reference it in order to relate to it. He had forgotten that one vital lesson.

While the Jenuiite situation had been indeed unfortunate, genocide had not been his intention. Their blatant disregard of Imperial law had needed to be dealt with, and he had done so in the manner that had seemed, at the time, to be appropriate. In any case, there was little he could do about it now.

He needed to stay focused on the present. "I think you've doubted my allegiance ever since Lord Vader defied you."

"You do, do you?" The Emperor's voice was even, but Darth Eivel could sense his annoyance. He smiled tightly.

"There was no reason to send me to Antilles. When the doctors are through with him, they'll have his genetic information on file and his brain patterns mapped and recorded. It might take a while to decipher the information they record, but I know you're a patient man. You've proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt," Darth Eivel continued dispassionately. "You've kept me on a leash with the offer of knowledge, promising power and peace if I only would follow you…which I have, and faithfully, despite your doubt."

"If you have some point to make, Lord Eivel, do make it," the Emperor snapped, "I tire of your presence."

"I still wish to learn, Master," Darth Eivel said softly. "I have learned a great deal over the past months, but I know there are still a great many mysteries that I don't understand."

"Your words are very true, Lord Eivel," Sidious agreed sharply. "Honestly, I don't think you realize just how much you still have to learn."

"I'm sure I don't," Darth Eivel granted. "One early lesson a student of the Jedi _or_ the Sith learns is that for every bit of information gained about the Force, a hundred questions are spawned in your mind."

"Those questions will be answered in time," Darth Sidious said, "if you remain loyal and true to the Empire's vision, your name will ring down through the centuries, I promise you."

"I don't care if my name is forgotten the moment my funereal pyre is lit," Eivel said, "but I do believe in that vision. A galaxy where peace is secure, and the Empire is strong enough to ensure that security will last. I've made far too many sacrifices to fail now. Letting go of my own selfish desire for knowledge will hardly be the worst of those sacrifices."

No thought crossed Darth Eivel's mind before he acted. Later on, when he would replay these few crucial moments over and over in his head he could only believe that it was _because_ of his own lack of foreknowledge that he succeeded at all. If any sort of plan had been teasing his thoughts, Sidious would have plucked it from his head and Darth Eivel would have been dead before he could have drawn a single breath.

Instead, everything seemed to happen at once, as if that moment in time had folded in on itself and _thought_ had become synonymous with _action_. He and Darth Sidious had both been holding the Force tightly, the two Sith hyperaware of not just each other but of their own selves and the space around them. Eivel knew that he was capable of a greater crude power than his Master, but Darth Sidious was by far the more skillful. His manipulation of the Dark side was infinitely more subtle, and his senses were much more finely honed by decades of working with that dark power.

But nonetheless, the shields Sidious threw up fiercelywere torn through as if they were tissue paper. The raw power of Darth Eivel's sudden attack ripped through the elaborate weaves of Sidious' barriers like a battleaxe's keen edge through fine silk stretched tightly over a loom.

The moment Eivel had reined in the Force, Darth Sidious had stood sharply, a look of deadly fury instantaneously on his face. But even the Emperor's formidable abilities weren't enough to interrupt the razor-sharp whip of his pupil's mind, and a dark red line appeared across the skin of the Sith Lord's neck before he had even stood to his full height. Eivel braced himself for the force of the Emperor's wrath, but even as he did so the young Sith realized with a shocked sense of disbelief that his instincts had been true. Sidious had not been able to stop the fatal blow from reaching him.

Darth Eivel saw the powerful Sith's eyes widen ever so slightly at the realization that after years of absolute power, the moment of his death was finally at hand. And instead of that first cold fury following him into the grave, Eivel felt an aura of black satisfaction emanate from his Master as the Emperor's head fell slowly from his shoulders. That arrogant approval swam maddeningly across Eivel's mind before it dissipated, leaving a blank gray sense of frantic disorientation in its wake. After what seemed to be an eternity (but in actuality was a measure of time less than a fraction of a second in scope) Palpatine's black-cloaked body sank silently to the floor.

In fact, _everything_ happened in less than a second. It was almost anticlimactic.

_I knew it would be you, my son._

Darth Eivel ignored the final murmurs in his mind from the fallen Sith. It was only when he had felt the last whisper of life flee from the headless corpse of the Emperor that Darth Eivel released the Force, pushing it from his mind and spirit in one desperate heave. The pain that had been kept at bay by the power he had held overwhelmed him in an instant and a strangled cry ripped from his throat. Eivel fell to the ground, his knees hitting the cold metal floor with a sharp, brittle sound. The impact made him bite down on his tongue viciously. Blood began to fill his mouth as his body tried to curl in on itself defensively, at last realizing the damage it had taken but that realization coming far too late to do any good.

The Emperor's head rolled across the floor, slowing to a stop nearly two meters away from him. Eivel stared into the blank, dead yellow eyes, expecting any second to see them blink and roll wetly in their sockets to lock eyes with him. His breath actually caught in his throat as he waited to see those bloodless lips curl in dark satisfaction before the spirit of his Master would take an inevitable revenge on his traitorous pupil.

That moment never came.

Instead, as the last tattered remnants of Darth Sidious' spirit finally vacated the Emperor's age-riddled mortal shell, a great wash of power swept over Darth Eivel. For a moment he found himself riding the cresting wave of energy that was building in the Dark side. The Sith Lord's death had not caused a mere ripple in the tapestry of the Force. It had created a tidal wave, birthing a dark typhoon in the black waters of the shadowy primal power of the galaxy. Eivel's physical body still resided somewhere in the strange existence he found himself reeling through, but it was distant, a nagging reminder of a mortal life that, in that moment, ceased to seem important.

It was this _other_ life that was important, this life of energy and consciousness, and power, and vitality, and…and…

Any semblance of conscious thought fragmented as the deadly whirlpools in the Force fully caught his mind. For a moment, before the wild tumult began to calm in the oceans of his psyche, it was as if Darth Eivel (_Luke Skywalker)_ ceased to exist at all. There was no mind separate from the Force, there was no identity other than this shrieking black wind, there was no sound except the crazed dissonance of the Dark side's demented chorus, which sang madly to him even as he felt himself being drowned in the Dark side's black waters.

There was nothing but sensation

_(pain)_

only his own voice calling out

_(screaming)_

feeling

_(agony)_

_(power)_

_(pain)_

_(power)_

_(…stop)_

_(fear)_

_(pain)_

_(…stop!)_

_(pain)_

_(pain)_

_(oh, gods, please, oh please make it STOP!)_

The terrified fragments of his thoughts snapped sharply back into his head.

With a sort of desperate relief Darth Eivel realized that the only sounds he could hear were the last echoes of his own tortured screams reverberating off the walls of the chamber. The Force was gone from his mind, leaving him feeling raw and hollow, as if something inside him had been cored out roughly and disposed of like so much garbage. He could sense the Force, the Dark side still thrumming with that awesome power the Emperor's death had released, but Eivel didn't reach out to it. He didn't think he could hold enough of it to fill a thimble. Whatever had just happened left his already battered body in a state of near collapse, and every muscle threatened mutiny as he struggled to his feet. It took him nearly a minute to pull himself up to a standing position.

_What just happened?_

As the question crossed his mind he felt panic threaten him again. There was no one for him to ask now. The Emperor was dead. He had killed his Mentor, his teacher…his Master. With the Sith Lord's death, he would have to decipher these mysteries by himself.

He was alone now.

_What have I done?_

Darth Eivel leaned heavily against the railing, breathing in short, hitching gasps and staring at the fallen body before him. He tried to force the chaos of his mind into focusing on the tasks he now had before him, and to his further relief found a measure of success in it.

He would have to move quickly. The news of the Emperor's death would spread like wildfire through the Empire. He would need to see that the news regarding his assumption of power spread with an equal ferocity. It was imperative for the people of the Empire to realize that although the Emperor was dead, the _Empire_ still lived. The galaxy had to know that their fates and worlds now rested in the hands of Darth Eivel alone.

_Alone_. Somehow, with the death of Darth Sidious, he had alienated himself even further from whatever ties to Luke Skywalker that still lingered. There would be no going back. The fact that he had killed the Emperor didn't change Darth Eivel himself, nor did it change his relationship with the Rebellion. He hadn't done this for the Alliance. He had done it because Emperor Palpatine had become too firmly a part of the problem. He had been stifling Darth Eivel because he knew if his young pupil were to truly come into his full power, a confrontation was inevitable. The Empire would still be subject to the ravages of a war, even if that battle was solely between himself and the Emperor. Their confrontation was unavoidable.

It was a confrontation that had just happened a few years earlier than anyone, even the young Sith himself, had expected it to. But the Emperor's death had been necessary.

_(in our own minds our actions are not only justifiable, but often unavoidable)_

Darth Eivel hadn't _betrayed_ the Emperor, he had _succeeded_ him, as even Darth Sidious himself had foreseen.

_(our actions are often unavoidable)_

It was the way of the Sith, after all.

_(unavoidable)_

It was the way of the _galaxy_.

Some part of him twisted inside as one more thread to his former life snapped. A fragile remnant of the naive young man dying inside him gibbered and sobbed. Darth Eivel gritted his teeth and pushed down the infuriating, jabbering voice of his weaker self and buried it under the pain.

_Do not dwell on the successes or the failures of the past. Concentrate on the present, and remember that what we do now shapes the future. _

His master had taught him that. It had been an early lesson that Darth Sidious had made sure was learned well.

_(or had it been Master Yoda? the fluttering voice of his past whispered crazily that it had been Yoda, not Darth Sidious but rather the exiled Jedi Master who had taught him those truths...)_

Darth Eivel pushed the confusion away fiercely. He didn't have time for reminiscing about a nine hundred year old gnome _or_ a warped and sick old man. Events would spin out of his control if he allowed them to.

He had no intention of allowing them to.

Quickly, now. He _had_ to move quickly. The fallout fromPalpatine's death had to be controlled.

A stray thought touched him, and he had the disturbing sense of the thought not being his own. It gave him the slightest moment of pause.

That thought was one simple but staggering realization:

For the first time since he had begun to learn the ways of the Force, he was his own Master.

A hard smile crossed his face. He felt a cold steel fortify his body, and the wavering confusion fled.

Darth Eivel began force his agonized limbs into obeying him, knowing that it could be many hours before he would be able to give it the rest it demanded. The small, quiet voice of his past faded even more. Finally it retreated into the depths of his mind, at last surrendering...and was gone.

And although many thoughts clattered madly in his head while he tried to organize them into clear, cohesive plan of action, Darth Eivel couldn't help but notice the resigned silence it's death left behind.

That silence was very loud.

**End of Part 12**

**Whew. Extra long 'cause of fatal tardiness. I hope I kept some readers, and please let me know what you guys think! This was an uber-hard chapter to write, as I said. I must've scrapped twenty pages of rewrites. Bleh.**

**FYI, Luke won't be assuming the title of Emperor exactly, for those who are wondering if this is the first step to him becoming the new Emperor. Despite appearances, Luke/Eivel is headed into some pretty gray areas, as is the rest of the cast!**

**Again, I apologize for the tardiness.**

**But it's done, and updates should be resuming their more timely appearances!**


	13. Chapter 13

Tardy again, due to work and illness…sigh

I really am trying to continue w frequent updates, but my life has been forced into an indentured servitude until my hubby gets a job…

It still will be finished, I promise! (anyone know where the Real World's power switch is?)

**(NOTE: Chapter twelve has an expanded conversation between Vesra and Eivel that gives a bit more info on their characters and the climate on the Deathstar. 8-6-05) **

**The Souls of Demons **

**Chapter 13 **

**_By Pyxelle _**

"What's going on?"

Han looked up at the doorway in surprise. Leia stood there, her eyes bleary but tight with worry. "Leia?"

"Is Anakin all right?"

He looked at the door to the refresher, which was still closed but wasn't thick enough to muffle the sounds behind it. "I don't know. We were talking and he just jumped up and started throwing up. It sounds like he's got to be having his shoes come out by now." He frowned a little. "What are you doing up? I thought you'd be asleep for hours yet."

"Something woke me up," Leia said, her eyes still on the refresher door. "I thought we'd run into an asteroid or something, it was so loud, but when I stood up it didn't seem like anything had happened. I could still sense Anakin's panic, so I figured something was wrong." She looked mildly disgusted. "I guess it was just him getting space sick."

The door to the refresher opened and Anakin stepped out, his face chalk-white except for the bruising that was already starting to color the flesh around his lips. The slight twinge of guilt Han felt when he saw Anakin's swollen face was easily overshadowed by the throbbing pain in his _own_ hand.

Anakin's eyes widened as he saw Leia. "You felt it too, didn't you?

"Well, _something_ woke me up." Leia frowned and looked at her father quizzically. "Are you all right? You look terrible."

"I'll be fine in just a moment."

"What happened to your face?"

"I ran into something. Don't worry about it." Anakin's voice was thicker than usual, but it still shook and his tone clearly conveyed the distress he was feeling. "How are _you_, Leia?"

"I'm fine, I think" Leia said, "what happened? It almost felt as if the ship just entered battle or something."

Han didn't know what in hell they were referring to. He hadn't heard a damn thing, and these two were talking like he had just slammed the ship into a nearby moon or gone hull-surfing through an asteroid field. "What are you guys talking about? I didn't hear anything."

Even as Anakin began to speak Han realized what that had to mean...more of that double-damned Force manure.

"There was a disturbance in the Force," Anakin said almost on cue, and immediately shook his head as if he were contradicting himself. "More than a disturbance. It was like a star going nova."

"Or cluster of stars going nova," Leia agreed, sitting down next to Han. He slipped his arm around her almost automatically, and Leia relaxed against him a little. "What happened? What made you actually get sick? It definitely felt awful, but it didn't affect me like that.."

"You're not as attuned as I am to the Force yet," Anakin said quietly, sitting down in a chair slightly less than a meter away from them and ignoring the dirty look Leia sent his way. His face still looked a little green as he swallowed loudly. "It was Luke."

Han felt a small worry flicker in him. He was afraid of what Luke might have done to affect Anakin this way and wondered just what horrific crime his former friend might have committed now… but he couldn't deny the concern that still touched him. Somehow, he still cared about the kid and his feelings rose regardless. "Did Luke get hurt?"

"Most definitely," Anakin nodded, and Han's small touch of fear went up another notch.

"What happened?" Leia asked, and Han could feel her tense under his arm. "Did the Emperor do something to him?"

"No, I don't think so," Anakin shook his head and lifted his eyes to Leia, his face bitter. "I think that Luke has killed the Emperor."

The shocked silence that followed that amazing statement was so profound that Han felt that even his heart must have stopped beating. At first his mind blanked at Anakin's words, but after a few moments a bubble of startled relief burst and Han felt a jagged laugh escape him.

"But that's great!" he exclaimed. His wide smile slowly died as he felt Leia shrug his arm off her to lean forward and put her head in her hands. A spark of irritation flared in him when Anakin gave him a look that was too close to pity for Han's liking. "What…we're _not_ glad Luke offed the Emperor?"

"Not exactly," Anakin said.

"Why the hell not?" Han demanded.

"Because to be able to kill Darth Sidious Luke would have needed to be far more powerful than I believed him to be." Anakin's voice was soft. "The shockwave I just felt was…immense. And terrifying."

"I still don't get it." Han fought to keep his voice from rising. "The Emperor's dead. Sorry, but that seems like a good thing to me. And if Luke's responsible, well, maybe that means we can at least try to work with him. The whole 'my friend is my enemy's enemy'…or whatever that saying is. I thought we were hoping to 'bring Luke back.' Isn't this a good start?"

"Han, you just don't understand." Leia shook her head and sighed. Some part of Han could almost see her putting one more measure of distance between them, letting her heritage and abilities build one more wall around her that he could not surmount. He swallowed his pride and tried to keep his frustration at bay.

"All right, I don't understand." He agreed tightly. "Lets all agree that I don't understand anything, like usual. But since I am the captain of this ship and more importantly, Leia's husband, could one of you maybe put it in a context even an idiot like me can understand?"

"Han," Leia said reproachfully, but he kept his face still and looked at Anakin instead.

"Well?" he asked. Han knew that he was bordering on sounding childish, but he found it hard to keep the defensive sarcasm from his voice. He was beginning to feel as if he were slowly being phased out of Leia's life, his very presence being a tie to a previous life she was slowly leaving behind. Intellectually he knew that was ridiculous, and that she loved him deeply. His mind insisted he had no reason to fear losing his wife.

But another voice whispered a different story. He could feel the distance between them growing day by day, and it was getting harder for him to rationalize away the feeling that he was married to a woman who was increasingly becoming a stranger to him. She was no longer talking to him about her lessons, or her dreams…or _anything_ for that matter. Their infrequent conversations had devolved into breakfast pleasantries and an occasional kiss goodnight. That internal voice of his mind noted every time Leia pulled away and filed away every instance when she tensed after he touched her. And no matter how circular his thoughts would become, they always seemed to come back to the same place…and the increasingly louder voice of his fear would whisper that he was losing her.

His mind was coming to the unpleasant conclusion that the hateful voice was probably right.

Earlier, after Leia had finished alternating between tears and apologies, he had felt the first real nail being pounded into his coffin when she had asked him to leave their quarters.

"Just for tonight, Han. I'm sorry, but I think I just need to be alone…"

Her face had been streaked with tears, and despite himself Han had agreed. She did need her sleep. Nonetheless, the doubts that he'd been fighting with ceased to simply nag him and had instead taken up permanent residence in his most prominent thoughts now.

Han wondered if these new abilities she was giving up so much of herself to learn had allowed her to sense the sick fear he lived with each day she was training with Anakin or the growing ache her increasing distance from him created in the pit of his stomach. He had kept it as well hidden as he could, although the anger that had been the pain's welcome replacement Han had happily worn as he had gone to find Anakin after he had left Leia alone earlier.

He likewise wore his frustration openly now. Neither Leia nor Anakin had yet answered him. "_Well_?"

There was one more brief moment of quiet before Anakin spoke.

"I'll agree with you that the Emperor's death was a good thing," he said, meeting Han's eyes. There was no visible emotion on his smooth-skinned features, but the color had not yet returned to his face. "But Luke didn't return to the Light side when he killed him…quite the opposite, I think. I don't know how he killed him…I'm not even sure how he _could_…but however he did it, he's fallen deeper into evil because of it. The Dark side claimed even more of his spirit just now." Anakin cast his eyes away. "I think it might have taken nearly all of it."

"It's too late then, isn't it." Leia's voice was dead as she looked at her father. There was no question in her tone, and Han instinctively reached out to comfort her. Her hand was limp in his, and he squeezed it once before letting it drop back into her lap. Han tried to ignore the helplessness he felt as she watched Anakin with dull eyes. "We've really lost him."

Anakin leaned over and grabbed Leia's left hand and Han felt his lips press together tightly as he saw Leia's fingers curl over Anakin's briefly. "We can't give up hope, Leia," he said softly.

A sudden bizarre image flickered before Han. For a moment his mind superimposed an image of Anakin looking down with that same expression of soft hope and hesitant affection not at Leia as she was now, but instead at a pink-swathed infant cradled in his arms. The young Jedi's forefinger was held tightly by a tiny hand peeking out from inside the blanket. The illusion of a father and daughter that never was lasted only a moment before it was shattered, but it took Han a moment before the disorientation it left him with dissipated. It still left him with a vaguely disconcerted feeling as Anakin continued, his face and body as eerily young as Han's brief vision. "If we lose hope then Luke _will_ be truly lost. If we hope to touch whatever good is still in him, we have to keep faith."

There was a moment before anyone spoke.

"So what do we do now?" Leia finally asked. "If the Emperor really is dead, then the Alliance won't continue to let us wander around deep space. They'll order us back to the Vegalles system in a heartbeat."

"Or they'll want to know if we've found somewhere that'd be safer while we've been 'scouting,'" Han said with a note of disgust. "I'm not quite sure how we're going to let them know we've been wandering for four weeks and we've come up with squat."

Anakin shook his head. "We have to go to the Rakaell system. The Alliance is just going to have to wait."

At least this time Han could see that Leia's shock was as heartfelt as his own.

"_What?"_ she asked, an edge in her voice. "_Where?"_

"The Rakaell system." Anakin's voice was calm.

Han answered in a tone that was anything but calm. "The Rakaell system, Leia, weren't you listening? That's the system that's wracked by solar storms because of its trinary suns, remember? The one that most ships can't travel through because of the extreme heat, but also happens to be so close to Imperial Space we could wave at Luke out of the cockpit without even standing up?"

"That's quite enough, thank you, Captain Solo," Anakin broke in.

Han didn't stop. "Oh, I don't think so. We can't forget to mention the fact that there supposedly are still the remnants of a minefield around the planet from the Clone Wars. It could be as ridiculous a rumor as the ones saying that there are ghosts on the surface, but hey, while we're at it-"

"Han, please!"

Leia's voice finally stopped the tumble of words out of Han's mouth. He nearly had to bite his tongue to keep from continuing, but managed to hold his composure as Leia spoke.

"Anakin, while I've been trying to be very open-minded, I don't see how in the galaxy going _there_ can possibly help us."

"Because nearly all of what Captain Solo is reciting is only half-true." Anakin paused. "Well, except for the bit about the minefields…and the ghosts. Those are mostly true."

"I'm going to ask once, " Leia's voice was carefully controlled, "please dispense with the cryptic wording and just tell me what you're talking about?"

"We need materials to build proper lightsabers," Anakin said, "Rakaell is the nearest planetary system with naturally occurring crystals that are suitable…one of very few left in the galaxy, for that matter. Its true that the trinary sun system makes it inhospitable to humanoid life, but Rakaell has a period of six or so weeks every eighty years where the many moons line up so that the planet is in a state of total eclipse…and so is cooled enough to be habitable. By some stroke of fate that eclipse started twelve days ago. The atmosphere is breathable, barely, but we should be fine as long as we leave the surface before the eclipse ends."

"There's got to be someplace safer."

"Not for us," Anakin shook his head. "Ilum was all but destroyed during the Jedi Purge and almost all the other planets are firmly in the Empire's grasp. Rakaell is the only viable option."

_The Jedi Purge._ How could he talk about one of the most horrific mass murders of the past millennium with such coldness? Han didn't think the former Jedi's voice had even wavered when he spoke of it. Anakin's voice had been clipped, clinical – as if the memory of his slaughter didn't touch him at all. "Luke went to Tatooine when he needed to construct a new lightsaber, didn't he?" Han said, remembering. "Even with the Hutt, wouldn't that be better?"

"Luke went to Obi-Wan's home to do that," Anakin said. "Tatooine doesn't have naturally occurring crystals."

"So we look on the black market," Han said decisively. "Trust me, there's virtually _nothing_ you can't find if you know the right people. Which I do."

"You still don't understand, Captain Solo," Anakin sighed. "The construction of their first lightsaber is part of a Jedi's training. It is a personal journey one must undertake, a journey after which the Jedi is changed…reborn, in a way. Rakaell not only has the crystals but also was home to a vast temple eons ago."

"That would explain the 'ghosts', wouldn't it?" Leia said softly. "If a Jedi Temple had stood on the planet before it became too difficult to live on, the Force would have had to be strong there, wouldn't it?"

There was a pause before Anakin spoke. "That's true. Sometimes the 'echoes,' for lack of a better word, of individuals strong in the Force resonate on long after their physical deaths."

Han felt an uncomfortable tightening in his chest. _The Jedi is changed…reborn, in a way._ What did Anakin intend for Leia to do there? "Still, we should-"

"Han, we are running out of time." Leia interrupted. "You were right about Ackbar – the Alliance is going to call us home as soon as possible. If we're going to do this, we aren't going to get a better chance."

Realizing that the decision had already been made, regardless of his own opinion, Han stood. "Fine. Fine! I'll go put in a new course. You might want to try getting some sleep, 'cause we're probably going to be dodging Imperial Star Destroyers in a day or two."

"Han-"

He ignored Leia's voice. "I've got a lot to do, Leia."

Leia was silent as he left the room to head to the cockpit. Though Anakin was as quiet as his daughter, his voice still rang in Han's ears like the death-tolls of hope itself. _The Jedi is changed...reborn._

_Reborn. _

**OoooOoooO**

"General Calrissian?"

Lando Calrissian hit _delete_ on his keypad, and the coded communiqué he had just received from the _Falcon_ vanished. He turned towards the open door to his quarters without breaking his outward appearance of calm, although his heart was beating furiously in his chest. "Yes?"

"General, I'm sorry to interrupt you at this hour, but we've just heard the most unsettling news…well, we're not sure if-"

"About the Emperor's death, right?"

Grianne Janeway looked at him in surprise. "Yes, sir. That's exactly it. Apparently Emperor Palpatine died in his sleep sometime last night, according to the newsvids."

_Died in his sleep?_ Lando nearly smiled grimly at the thought. According to _Han's_ information, the Emperor's death had been anything but as mild as that. He wasn't quite sure where Han sometimes would get his information (although as the single person on Vegalles that was fully aware of Anakin's true identity he did have his suspicions) but he trusted Han far more than any newsvids. "I just heard the news, Grianne."

"Well, one of the Empire's officers is making a formal statement right now. I thought you'd want to see. Frequency 26433."

"Thank you," Lando said, flipping on his vidscreen. Grianne stood behind him, watching the screen with the same intent as him.

A man somewhere in his mid-thirties was making the announcement, human, with dark hair. _Captain Doran Vesra_ was the name that was written across the bottom of the screen. No other titles were announced. Lando thought briefly that this man was the absolute epitome of what the Empire represented, in appearance at least. He wore a crisp, pressed uniform that looked newly made and his hair was slicked back with not a single strand out of place. His face was angular and his features sharp, as if he were a construction, a droid in a human's skin that was barely able to keep up the façade of true life.

Even his voice was dry and emotionless. "We regret to announce that last night, aboard the Empire's defensive battle station, Emperor Palpatine succumbed to his advanced years and passed away in his sleep. Funeral services will be private, but there will be a public memorial service in two days time on the Imperial planet of Coruscant.

"The Emperor's second-in-command will be handling Imperial affairs indefinitely. Although he could not be here personally, Lord Eivel wished it to be known that he intends his assumption of Regency to be handled in the smoothest way possible. It is his hope, and indeed the hope of the entire Empire, that even in these sad times we can build a better future for generations to come. After a period of mourning for Emperor Palpatine, the Emperor's chosen successor will be contacting planetary governments for a galactic wide council regarding the future of how the government would most efficiently be run. The reorganization of the Empire and the possible reinstatement of the Galactic Senate are two items that are a priority on that agenda, the rest of which is to be announced at a later date."

As Captain Doran Vesra began to elaborate on the details of Emperor Palpatine's funeral, Lando switched off the vidscreen. A frown deeply creased his face. "Reorganization of the Empire?" His voice was heavy with confusion. "And possible reinstatement of the _Senate_?"

"It sounds too good to be true, doesn't it?" Grianne asked softly.

Lando glanced at her with a grim smile. "That's exactly what it sounds like, Grianne."

"General, that's not all." His assistant handed over a datapadd with an equally serious expression on her face. "We received this only moments after the news of Palpatine's death hit the comm waves. It's being sent over a huge range of communication frequencies, in over three hundred languages. It's encrypted with an Alliance key, though one almost two years old now."

As he skimmed the message, Lando felt his eyes widen even more. When he reached the end, he immediately returned to the beginning of it to re-read the unbelievable words. Grianne waited patiently as he scrolled down the missive a second time, obviously unsurprised at his need to double-check it. Even so, Lando could hardly give his eyes credence to what he read. "I suppose this has been checked for authenticity, hasn't it?"

"Its still under review by specialists, but the general opinion they hold right now is that there's no evidence to dispute it," affirmed the young human. "As far as they can tell, it's genuine."

If so, then what Luke had done the absolute last thing the Alliance would have expected. "We've been _pardoned?" _

"It would seem so, sir. The wording of it applies to virtually the entirety of the Alliance. "

Shock was far too mild a word to describe what Lando was feeling. "The Empire's declared an _amnesty_?"

"The Empire's never done such a thing before, I know. What's more, even though it _is_ apparently valid, separate documents have been sent regarding every single leader of the Alliance – including you, General."

"I see," Lando dropped the datapadd to his desk with a clatter, and he glanced at her with bleak humor. "I've been a wanted man for so long now I'm not even sure _what_ to think about that."

"There's still more," Grianne's voice had become, if possible, even quieter. "There are two files attached. One is addressed to Princess Leia. We can't seem to decrypt that one, but the other wasn't encoded beyond what the rest of the message was."

Lando picked up the datapadd again and opened the specified attachment, reading through it quickly. When he finished, he put down the padd carefully.

"Thank you, Grianne." His voice sounded weak and ghostly even to his own ears. "I need a moment, all right?"

Grianne left the room silently, and Lando sat as still as stone for nearly five minutes. Such a rapid succession of emotions paraded through him that a kind of overloaded numbness was all he could really feel. Shock warred with disbelief, confusion fought an instant suspicion, but overlaying all of these was a cautious hope. A part of him knew it had to be some sort of trap, but the crystalline possibility of an end to this war was a prize too precious to ignore.

For all intents and purposes, everyone knew the Rebellion was virtually dead. All they were doing now were trying desperately to ignore its' death-throes. While Lando's rational self wanted to dismiss the entire "amnesty" out of hand, he found he couldn't make himself shatter that fragile hope.

_Maybe…just maybe the Emperor's death changed things enough…and maybe Han's wrong. His source isn't really very trustworthy, in all honesty. Even Han admitted that. So just maybe…_

The chirp from the intra-base communication system surprised him so much that he actually jumped. Lando flicked the comm switch. "Yes?"

"General Calrissian." It was Admiral Ackbar. " I can see there's no need to apologize for waking you. You've received the news, I take it?"

"Is it that obvious?" Lando asked wryly. "I guess I've lost my sabacc face."

"Don't feel too bad, general." Ackbar's apparent humor lacked any veracity to it. "You're not the only one. Did Lieutenant Janeway pass along the communiqué?"

"Yes, and I've given it a cursory read-through already," Lando said. He sighed. "So let me guess…you're going to tell me to get to the conference room as soon as possible, right?"

Ackbar nodded his huge head solemnly. "I'm sorry about the late hour, but I'm sure you can agree it can't wait. We need to contact Princess Leia and General Solo immediately. Hopefully she'll have some idea how to decode that last part of the transmission, and we can't very well make any real decisions without their input. Not to mention the fact that despite the amnesty and the Empire's further offers to the princess…the possibility is strong that her life is in grave danger."

"You won't get an argument from me," Lando agreed softly.

"Other than the _Falcon's_ crew, we don't have too many people off-planet right now but we're still ordering everyone off-base to return here immediately. It's just a precaution," Ackbar continued. "Hopefully we'll manage to at least contact everyone before any evacuation is necessary. We don't think they've traced us here, but I'd hate to leave anyone to the Empire if they have."

_Oh, no._ The only visible evidence of Lando's sudden sharp pang in his chest was a quick tightening of his eyes. "Of course, sir." _How could I have forgotten?_

"I'll see you shortly, general."

"I'm on my way," Lando replied faintly, and the screen flickered off.

He hadn't really forgotten about Wedge, but he had allowed his worry to fade to a distant whine in the back of his head over the past few days. Lando didn't leave right away. Instead his fingers flew over the keypad to his computer in a blur, entering the encryption codes he and Han had settled on and opening the channel with a sense of urgency. The message he attached to the files Grianne had given him was short and to the point, but he didn't have time for more. Lando hit _send_ as soon as he was finished writing.

_Transmission complete._

Lando switched off his terminal and left the room with a carefully neutral expression firmly on his face, a look that nowhere matched his true feelings. Despite his earlier words to Ackbar, he knew he had schooled his expressions for long enough that his worried anxiety didn't show on his face at all. Hopefully Han had heard from the erstwhile Rebel pilot by now and just hadn't been able to send Lando a message. Hopefully R-2 had simply been unable to risk sending a message through Imperial airspace. Hopefully they wouldn't have to explain to Ackbar and the others that they had sent Captain Antilles deep into the Empire, without authorization, on the off chance that a crazy plan cooked up by a former card shark and thirty-year-old astro-droid would succeed. Hopefully Lando wouldn't have to explain to them _alone_.

Hopefully Wedge was still all right.

Lando turned down the corridor, letting a mild irritation overshadow his concerns gladly as he could see the other Council members gathering in the hall. _Just like you to leave me to face the music alone, you old scoundrel,_ he thought more than a little unfairly as he joined the others. _It's just my luck that I'm going to have to cover our asses here while you're off on a damn pleasure cruise._

But even his familiar facetious annoyance with the _Falcon's _current captain slipped from his mind as he eased into his usual chair and the darkly serious faces of the council surrounded him. Lando could feel his own mood color to match theirs as Mon Mothma called the meeting to order.

_Han old buddy, I hope you're having better luck than I am. _

**OoooOoooO**

"Having bad luck with that?"

Onorea Detlas glanced up from her console in the Imperial Hangar and smiled through her irritation at the sandy-haired young man in front of her. "Hey, Bren."

"You look ready to bite the head off a Rancor, sis." Bren said, flashing a quick grin at her. "What's the problem?"

"The comm system is still acting up," Onorea gritted her teeth briefly. She glanced up at her brother with a frown. "You shouldn't be in here, Bren. I'm on duty."

"I've got clearance to be here, Rea." Though they shared the same parents, Bren's sunny coloring and demeanor was very different from her own dark seriousness. He shrugged with a vague irreverence at her disapproval. "I've worked on the _Erebus_ before, you know. True, I was covering for another technician and it was only the one time, but I do have a D405 technical clearance now."

"Great," Onorea's eyebrow rose wryly. "Want to give me a hand, then?"

"Sorry," Bren said brightly. "Off-duty."

Onorea resisted the urge to slap her younger brother. "Then get out of here, crewman. I've got to get this finished, and even with clearance you know you can't just wander into the Imperial Hangar on a whim."

"I'll just say I'm helping you." Bren looked over her shoulder at the console for a moment. "The comm system, you said?"

Maybe he was really going to help. She could definitely use it, and despite his flippant behavior, Bren was really very intelligent. Onorea just hoped that flippancy didn't land him in hot water one day. Honestly, she was amazed it hadn't yet. "Yes."

"The _Nyx_ and the _Erebus_ use the same style comm system, right?"

"Right."

"Which uses asynchronous sub-spatial pulse technology, right?"

"Right!" Onorea agreed irritably. "You know very well what the comm system uses, _Crewman_ Detlas. You're stationed on the _Annihilator_ and I know you're perfectly familiar with the system it uses to interface with the _Erebus_."

"Well, then, _Lieutenant,_" Bren asked with an infuriatingly cocky grin, "why are you setting it to interface with _synchronous _signals?"

There was a split second while Onorea looked at her console in disbelief before she groaned loudly. "I can't believe I missed that!"

The young man shrugged. "All the other ships use the standard SSP. You've been working on Star Destroyers for almost a year, Rea. Easy mistake to make."

"Bren, you're a lifesaver." Onorea began to recalibrate the comm system and already could see the programming falling into place. "I swear, if you were just a little more ambitious you'd be first officer on the _Annihilator_ by now."

Bren's grin faded. "No, thanks," he said with only a faint trace of his prior amusement. "I like being a lowly technician. Imperial officers have too high of a mortality rate for my taste."

A small smile surfaced on Onorea's face. "I'll try to keep that in mind."

Her brother looked stricken. "Oh, Rea, I didn't mean-"

"Don't worry about it," Onorea interrupted him. "It was Lord Vader that enforced such severe punishment for disobedience, not Lord Eivel. Things have been different since Darth Vader's been gone. And now that the Emperor's dead…well, now that Lord Eivel's assumed Regency, things can only improve, if you ask me. In my experience, he has a much more relaxed style of command. He's certainly more tolerant."

"He used to be," Bren muttered under his breath. The sharp look Onorea cut him with made him flinch briefly before a diffidently apologetic smile was returned to her. "Sorry. I'm not quite as squeaky-clean of an Imperial citizen as you, Rea. I guess that probably means I'm not really cut out for military life, huh? I probably should have just stayed on that half-civilized moon we grew up on."

"I can't see you as a farmer," Onorea snorted, and then sighed. She had let this inappropriate conversation continue on for far too long. As much as she enjoyed spending time with her brother, he seemed to bring out the latent child in her and sometimes she wished he hadn't been stationed on Darth Eivel's ship. He was generally not on the Deathstar, being ship-based, but with the recent upheavals in the Empire it looked as if they might be spending quite a bit more time on the same duty roster. Onorea thought it a mixed blessing. "Seriously, though, I really do appreciate the help but you have _got_ to get out of here before you get us _both_ into trouble."

"All right, all right!" Bren raised his hands in defeat and began to back away. He had nearly reached the door when he glanced back, a sly look in his eyes. "I'm glad I could help you, Rea. You thankful enough to help _me_ out?"

Onorea regarded him suspiciously. "With what?"

Bren flipped her a lazy salute. "Calm down, lieutenant, it's concerning work. I was wondering if you could check out repair bay 6595," Bren said, his tone turning serious. "I'm having a devil of a time trying to repair one of the units in there."

_RB-6595_. "That would be one of the A.I. rooms, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," Bren confirmed. "Commander Schenel wants me to give one of the astro-droids that's malfunctioning a complete overhaul. The loony thing has its wires crossed six ways to the next century."

"What's wrong with it?"

"I'm not sure," Bren admitted slowly. "Its memory hasn't been wiped in far too long, for one thing. It's so damn corrupted I can't even seem to access it. Every time I try it reinitializes itself."

"Reinitializes _itself_?" Onorea asked, confused.

"Its inhibitor programs seem inoperational," he explained. "The tech who found it had to put a physical restraining belt on it to keep it under control. The dumb droid was actually trying to break _into_ the garbage when it was found."

Onorea could feel the amusement plain on her face. "Self-disposing droids…now I've heard of everything."

"Anyways, if you get a chance, would you mind taking a look at it?" Bren asked with a plaintive half-smile. "Its files are translating to nothing but gibberish, and I just can't seem to crack its programming. A.I. was always your strong suit, not mine."

"Sure," she nodded, and the young man sighed with audible relief. "I'll take a look at it if I get a chance. What's its designation?"

"Oh, there's scoring alongside the side where the ident code used to be. You can't really read anything beyond an "r" in it somewhere. Probably an old R-2 or R-4 unit." Bren waved his hand idly. "Too much of the junk in the repair bays gets bumped around 'til it's amazing its recognizable at all. But it's the only blue and white astro-droid in that particular bay, not to mention the only one with a restraining belt on it. You can't miss it."

"I'll try to get to it," Onorea said before setting her lips firmly in a frown. "Seriously, now, _get out._"

"Gone." Bren seemed to have returned to his usual cheery self as he vacated the Imperial Hangar. Onorea brought her attention back to the console, but now that her mistake was clear to her she realized she would be finished quickly.

The least she could do was to check out that droid for Bren. Onorea was getting a little tired of working on configuring the _Nyx's_ computer, however much she might like the ship. It would be a nice change of pace to slow down and spend a little time working with a simple astro-droid. Despite Bren's description of his difficulties, she didn't really anticipate any problems with the overhaul. She was much better with A.I. programming than he was, and it was only an astro-droid, after all.

How hard could it be?

**End of Part 13**

I realize the Detlas family seems to be pretty un-cookie cutter 'evil' as most of the movies have the Imperial crew. I did that deliberately, 'cause I figured w/the size of the galaxy, some of their staff had to be likable!

Reviews appreciated!


	14. Chapter 14

Well, I seem to have lost a few readers due to my crappy updating…sob…but my fault I guess! Anyways, I'm trying to get back to my at least once-a-week updating. (I'm still a day late, but I'm trying!)

I've had more than a few people mention that they're wondering where certain characters are (such as Chewbacca, Lando, Threepio and even Dena –which, btw, makes me grin 'cause that means people are apparently liking my original characters.) Sometimes it can take me a while to get to everyone when there are as many characters in a story as this one 'cause I am pretty wordy and can take quite a while to explore what I am writing. Chewbacca, Threepio and Dena are still on board the Falcon (and all will be coming up soon…Chewbacca in particular is featured heavily in this chapter) but they wouldn't really have added much to the previous chapters, other than just mentioning them. Threepio in particular hasn't been very important to the plot as of yet.

The plot to this story is pretty involved, and I'm trying to make sure I craft it well while still doing a good job with characterization. It can be an immensely difficult balancing act, which as fellow fanfic writers I'm sure a lot of you can relate to. I probably should mention them occasionally just to reiterate they still exist, I guess.

Now for a few personal responses, since I haven't been able to do recently…

**Maphisto86**- quote " P.S. Is Palpatine really dead? " Well, he's ceased to organically exist…so I suppose that means he's dead…(insert cheesy dire soap-opera music here…dun dun dun….)

**Lazy.kender** – As to whether the amnesty is a trick…definitely yes and most assuredly no. That should leave it clear as mud, huh?

**PhantomSith** – I'm glad to gain a new reader and thanks muchly for the reviews! Its exciting that more than one self-described 'discerning' fanfic reader/writer is enjoying this story.

**WanderingJedi **– and to the several others who have shown interest – Onorea and Bren are both going to be playing fairly significant parts, at least as supporting characters. I've tried to mix my original characters in well, 'cause I know that in fanfic orig. characters can sometimes throw people out of a story, and I'm trying to avoid that impulse from cropping up in the readers.

**Ben** – I'm glad you find it well done and you're enjoying it! As to speeding things up, if you're talking about posting chapters more quickly I can say that I've been writing a ton lately but final edits are taking time. Otherwise, a lot is going to be happening in the coming chapters if you're referring to the story itself. Anakin and Leia are both going to be Force-questing for their lightsaber crystals, Han and Chewbacca are going to get to do some fancy flying, Darth Eivel's going to be doing some house-cleaning (or rather, 'officer-cleansing' might be a better term for it) on the Deathstar and some fancy flying of his own, Lando's going to be honing his skills as a politician and maybe some fancy flying too -grin- and R-2's going to be, well, being R-2. The others are gonna be around too (Threepio, Dena, Vesra, Onorea, Bren, R-5…) There are going to be a few flashback scenes too, going way, way back to when Han and Leia escaped from the Deathstar and seeing some of the original way Vader/Luke's relationship evolved shortly after Luke's fall.

I tend to explore each scene very thoroughly when I'm writing it. Because there are so many characters it can take a while to cycle through them. I also mix clues to the plot in all that introspective stuff (at least, I've been trying to do so as far back as the first chapter) Oh, about Luke and the, well, total Hell I've been putting him through in this story…I honestly can't comment on it 'cause I don't want to give away the plot. But remember that although Luke is now the supreme Sith Lord in the Galaxy, I mentioned last chapter that he is going to be entering some very gray areas nonetheless.

**Also…to whoever used Darth Eivel as his or her account name** – You haven't actually left a review, but I noticed that someone by the name of "Darth Eivel" has this story on their favorites list. After a little checking I did confirm that that name's never been used in the EU – I was pretty sure it hadn't been when I initially used it, but I wanted to verify that. I couldn't believe it when I was checking my stats page to see who had this story on their favorites or story alert list, only to see that "_Darth Eivel_" had this fic as a favorite! Let me tell you, I did a double-take and then yelled out so loud my hubby thought I must have fallen down the stairs or something. I am just tickled pink! I'm taking the fact that you (whoever you are) used my Sith name for Luke as your account name as one of the most unique and sincere compliments I could have gotten, so thanks ever so much! You made my whole week…Darth Eivel.

(Pyxelle smiles happily)

Boy, lotsa rambling from me here…onto the story.

**The Souls of Demons**

**Chapter 14**

_**By Pyxelle**_

"Dismissed."

The sound of footsteps stained the colorless silence left by the dozen officers that filed out of the gunmetal gray conference room. Darth Eivel watched them, absently noting the coppery taste of blood on his tongue. It had been nearly seventy hours since he had almost bitten through it in the Emperor's chambers but the metallic tang still lingered. In that time, Eivel still hadn't slept, and to tell the truth he wasn't quite sure how he was still functioning. "Captain Vesra, would you stay a moment more?"

The dark haired captain sat back down immediately. Though he had been the lowest ranking officer there, Vesra had been given the seat to the right of Darth Eivel, a position that normally would have been given to the most senior officer present. General Chronis Torren, the aging commander of Darth Vader's now-disbanded elite forces, should have been given that honor. His obvious displeasure at this perceived slight had not gone unnoticed by the newly recognized Imperial Regent – Darth Eivel had been more than aware of the general's contempt from the moment he had walked through the doors, five paces ahead of any of the other Imperial officers.

Torren was also the last to leave the conference room now, his demeanor outwardly no different than the others as they filed into the corridor, but his outrage obvious and harshly offensive to Eivel's still painfully raw senses. His anger at this exclusion might as well have been shouted out loud.

The last of them finally exited, and Eivel allowed his muscles to relax the very slightest amount as the doors whizzed shut. The Sith pressed his lips together tightly as he turned to face his executive officer.

"They're not happy, are they?" he asked dryly.

Captain Vesra answered slowly. "My lord, I don't think they fully understand your reasoning," he replied, lacing his fingers together on the table's surface and sitting perfectly straight in his chair. He was obviously trying to choose his words delicately. "To be perfectly honest, I don't quite understand it, either."

"I'm trying to finally end this conflict, Captain," Eivel replied quietly. "I would have thought that was obvious."

"I believe I understand your intentions, Lord Eivel, but do you really believe the Alliance will trust them?"

"I'm hoping I can convince them that I'm…that the Empire is sincere."

"I hope they will believe that, my lord." Vesra nodded, "but forgive me for suggesting we should be prudent in this matter. The Rebellion's leaders are not likely to accept this amnesty easily. They will suspect a trap."

"And when they don't find a trap? What will they do then?" Eivel shook his head. "The rebels are very short on options right now, Captain. To be perfectly honest with you, I'm more concerned about the Empire's leaders right now." His mouth tightened. "I'm going to have trouble with them, aren't I?"

"Yes," Vesra replied simply.

There was a moment of silence as Darth Eivel contemplated the captain's blunt answer. There were many reasons why Doran Vesra had been given the role of his executive officer, but one that had greatly contributed to his selection was the captain's inner core of cold strength. He was not easily intimidated…not by the Alliance, not by the more senior officers who were sure to resent his sudden propulsion to a position of power, and certainly not by General Torren. Sometimes Eivel thought his choice of the unassuming man as his second-in-command had been heavily influenced by the impression that Doran Vesra did not even seem to be cowed by Darth Eivel himself.

Oh, he was _afraid_ of Darth Eivel. There was no doubt about that. One would have to be an idiot not to be afraid of the Emperor's prodigy, and Captain Vesra was no idiot. The young Sith could easily sense the captain's underlying and quite constant fear. But Doran Vesra wasn't _overwhelmed_ by that fear – and _that_ was quite rare.

Still, despite their other failings, the core of the Emperor's elite still shared that quality with Captain Vesra. Most of them even possessed a modicum of talent, a distressingly rare commodity in an officer core controlled by fear. But Darth Eivel needed people he could trust to follow his orders without question, and the men who had just vacated the room were not those people.

"The Emperor's death is leaving the galaxy in a very fragile condition, Captain. I can't afford to indulge a group of spoiled old men who are afraid of losing their favorite toys." Eivel tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, and then smiled at Vesra without humor. "I think we need to consider looking for some good candidates for promotion, Captain. Candidates with an open mind - who aren't opposed to the new direction of the Empire."

"My lord?"

"I think we're going to need replacements for the officers who will be 'retiring,' Captain." Darth Eivel clarified without emotion. "Preferably newer officers who don't have any preconceived ideas about the Empire, or any…obsolete allegiances."

"I believe I understand, my lord." Captain Vesra nodded, his voice soft as he continued. "Would you like me to prepare a report on those with, well, good prospects of promotion?"

"Yes, Captain. I think that would be prudent, wouldn't you say?"

Vesra nodded again. "Yes, most prudent, Lord Eivel."

"Then let's say we discuss that at later time – we'll meet again in twenty-four hours. That should be enough time to form a rough idea of who might be good replacement command material," Darth Eivel said decisively. "As for your own promotion, Captain, I think we'll make your new status official when we've stabilized the rest of the officer core. I don't mean any offense to you, but it's probably better that we have any Imperial commands come directly from me until then."

"I take no offense, my lord. I know exactly where my place is."

"Good," Eivel dismissed the issue, his mind dropping to the next item on his mental list that he needed to have dealt with. "Captain, I realize you can't have gotten much more rest than I have over the last fifty hours." If Vesra had slept at all it would have been more than he had. Eivel had spent nearly three days without sleep, and there was still an incredible amount he felt he had to do. But the new Imperial Regent knew he was on the verge of collapse, and his determined effort to establish his authority here would be worthless if he did so publicly. "But before you begin your review, there are a few things I need you to take care of that can't wait."

"Of course, my lord."

"A young rebel was captured not too long ago, and I'm afraid I haven't been able to stay on top of the matter."

Vesra frowned slightly. "I haven't heard anything about a Rebel captive, my lord."

"For reasons of his own, Emperor Palpatine kept knowledge of the rebel to himself," Eivel could sense the captain's curiosity but didn't elaborate. "It seems that his Highness kept more than one secret, even from me. I only found out about this recently, and as you know I've been far too busy the past few days to keep up with it."

"I see," Vesra said, not asking anything further. "What can I do for you, Lord Eivel?"

"The Emperor was having the rebel's brain patterns recorded for neural decoding," Eivel told him. "I need you to see if they've had any luck with that. I believe that his ship was also put in one of the single-bay hangars – it was pretty heavily damaged and the astro-droid's systems were corrupted. Its files were probably encrypted, too. Check and see whether they've been able to decrypt any of its files, particularly the navigation files. Even with the offer of amnesty, I don't like not knowing the Rebel base's location. Maybe we can locate it without waiting for them to hand the coordinates over."

"I'm sure the Alliance wouldn't have made it easy for us to access the navigational files, but I'll see what they've found," Vesra said with a professional air. "Have they gotten any information out of the rebel captive?"

Eivel shook his head. He suddenly realized he hadn't even yet thought to see if the laboratory staff was finished with Wedge. The rebel pilot might have progressed from being a 'captive' to being a 'casualty.' "Most likely not as of yet. He wasn't conscious until recently and neural maps can take weeks, if not months, to decipher. No one fully interrogated him because stress interferes with the mapping process. It's possible they've come up with something since I spoke with him, but I think I would have-"

Darth Eivel stopped cold. He could almost hear the internal _click_ of a puzzle piece he hadn't even realized existed as it snapped into an unnoticed gap in his mind. The outside world faded as the memory of his return to the Deathstar and subsequent conversation with Darth Sidious burst in on him, making Captain Vesra fade to a vague shadow.

_Did you never wonder _how_ I discovered where Leia was hiding? Or just _where_ I learned the exact frequency and decryption code for their base communications system?_

He remembered the Emperor's sly tone and gloating face as he had revealed Wedge Antilles' presence on the Deathstar. He could still feel the way the shock had washed the ancient Sith almost fully from his mind when he had faced his former friend and comrade. He recalled his own easy acceptance of the source of the Emperor's information.

_How do you exterminate a rats' nest when you don't know where the nest is? Quite simple…you ask a rat._

Darth Eivel suddenly realized that Darth Sidious had never actually _said_ Wedge had been that source.

Wedge hadn't yet reached consciousness when Darth Eivel had returned to the battle station. No one would have been able to interrogate a comatose man, and the doctors couldn't have decoded the location from incompletely mapped neural data. Additionally, the Emperor's clandestine associates on the Deathstar had barely even begun to investigate the ship's systems at that point. They hadn't even been able to determine the ship's internal ident code when Eivel had last seen the rebel pilot, much less have decoded an origination point.

Even more damning, the coordinates had been sent to him ten days before Darth Eivel had returned to the Deathstar. If Eivel's math was correct, Wedge Antilles had only been there for eight.

Darth Sidious couldn't have gotten the coordinates for Borunn from Wedge Antilles.

"Lord Eivel?" Captain Vesra's voice was hesitant but it's soft sound yanked Darth Eivel back to the present nonetheless. "Is something wrong?"

Eivel's voice was as hard and brittle as a comet's frozen core when he answered. "I need you to have the Emperor's computer files decoded as well. I don't care if you have to have half the programming crew on it – I want the information in those files as soon as possible. Have them concentrate on the communication logs, particularly any with comm frequencies that have been used by the Rebellion in the past."

"My lord?" Vesra sounded baffled.

"Just do it, Captain!" Eivel ordered harshly before turning sharply on his heel and leaving the conference room. He was furious with himself for missing those vital pieces of information until now, but he managed to keep it to a slow simmer as he strode swiftly down the hallway, ignoring the stormtroopers who saluted him as he left.

_Keeping a few less secrets might have given you a few more years to live, your Highness, _Eivel thought coldly as he headed to his quarters. He would check in with Vesra after a few hours sleep had satisfied his still-mortal body's need for rest. Even for the competent officer, it would take at least that long to gather any information.

But before he could take his forced slumber, he needed to contact Palpatine's private lab staff. He hoped that Wedge hadn't been disposed of yet. The Rebel pilot didn't know it, but he had just been granted a reprieve from death. Ironically, because he _hadn't_ revealed the Alliance base's coordinates earlier Wedge's life had suddenly become valuable to the Empire once more. There might be information in his head that Darth Eivel couldn't wait months for.

Information such as just how Emperor Palpatine had _really _learned of Borunn's hidden base…and just _who_ might have given him that information.

**OoooOoooO**

Chewbacca was pretending not to exist.

For a Wookiee, this was a nearly an impossible feat. He was simply too large and possessed far too an intimidating physique to become invisible.

Chewbacca was still giving the attempt his best effort. So far, he was succeeding with a much greater deal of success than one would have thought possible.

To be perfectly honest, Chewbacca realized, that success was not really because of anything he was doing. It was primarily due to the fact that both Han and Anakin were far too involved in their own heated argument to pay attention to something as trivial as the being of pure brute muscle that had been sitting in the cockpit when they had entered. It seemed easy for them to ignore the Wookiee who weighed over one hundred and fifty kilos and who surpassed two meters in height, even if he was sitting right in front of them. He was almost an entire meter away from them, after all. That was plenty far enough away for a human to ignore. It was a huge distance. A chasm.

Right.

If the _Falcon's_ cockpit had been just a little bit larger, Chewbacca would have tried to slip out, but as it was the two humans were completely blocking that escape from him. So he sat very still, staring fixedly out the forward viewport, while the ship echoed with the raised voices that were quickly becoming familiar in the tight quarters of the _Millennium Falcon._

"I don't care if you've had a vision of me bouncing off of every mine in that system," Han said now with furious determination hardening his voice. "There is no way in this galaxy or any other you will _ever_ lay a finger on this ship's controls."

"Captain Solo, we can't be sure how much of that minefield is still surrounding Rakaell," Anakin replied. He was only the tiniest bit quieter than Han. "Nor can we know how many of the mines are still operational. I know you're an accomplished pilot, but I can sense it if any of the mines are going to detonate _before_ they do. Even if you're the best pilot in the Alliance, it won't help you if a thirty-year-old explosive discharges ten meters from your starboard bow because your instruments couldn't detect it."

"I've navigated this ship through an asteroid field while you _yourself _were chasing me with a dozen Star Destroyers," Han retorted hotly. "I can certainly handle some outdated, abandoned minefield."

"I don't think you fully understand the danger. You're being overconfident," Anakin said coldly. "And you're being foolish."

"Foolish?" Chewbacca didn't look back, but in his mind's eye he could almost see Han's face as outrage surely flooded it. "_Foolish?"_

"Your hearing is quite remarkable," Anakin said sarcastically, and Chewbacca warbled a soft whine in a register far below a human's ability to hear. Han was notoriously bad at handling insults, implied or otherwise. This argument was only going to continue to escalate, and the Wookiee wished silently that he had left the cockpit when he had heard Han moving about the ship earlier instead of waiting for his friend to take over the controls. He might have been able to avoid getting trapped in the tiny cockpit if he had.

"Yeah, well, _your_ hearing seems to be pretty awful." Out of the corner of his eye Chewbacca could see Han cross his arms over his chest and lean against the bulkhead, his expression and demeanor screaming anger. "But that happens with age, pops, so I'll repeat it for you. _You…are…not…flying…my…ship_."

There was frustration in the sigh that Anakin released. "I don't understand why you're being so difficult. You'll be right here with me. And trust me, even at my _advanced age,_" the arrogant mockery in the youthful-appearing human's words was nearly palpable in the tense air, "I can assure you that this ship isn't quite so new that I wouldn't be able to handle piloting it."

"You don't understand why I'm difficult? You know, you're pretty damn dense for someone who's supposed to have been the best the Jedi Order had back in the day." Han wasn't yet shouting but he was definitely giving off the impression that he was about to start. "Let me spell it out for you. _I don't trust you._ This is _my_ ship and I'm the _only _one who's going to pilot it."

"Oh?" Chewbacca couldn't help glancing back briefly when he felt Anakin's gaze drop to him at Han's words. His brief glimpse allowed him to see the two men's contrasting faces clearly before he rapidly turned his face back to the console. It was obvious to him that both men were holding emotions in them that were nearly equal in intensity. Han wore his openly on his face, the anger in him making his face flush red. To the Wookiee's sensitive nose he smelled of hot blood and a primal territorial aggression.

While the _Falcon's_ captain showed no hesitancy about letting his feelings show, Anakin's expression was as cold as Hoth's frozen plains. It almost seemed as if the ice that covered him made him inhuman, as if he wasn't a living being at all but some sort of machine…which, Chewbacca couldn't help uncomfortably remembering, he virtually had been for two decades. It wasn't easy for the Wookiee to dismiss that knowledge, and a savage part of him still wanted to rip the man's head from his shoulders for what the Empire had done to the proud people of Kashyyyk. It wouldn't even have been murder. Murder was when another sentient creature was killed, when the life of someone with a _soul_ had been reft away. Darth Vader had been a soulless monster.

It was the stench of a near-terrifying rage that kept that desire kindled inside Chewbacca, but Anakin's rage was accompanied by something that stayed the Wookiee's vengeance. A desperate fear-smell came with it, riding on fury's heels and somehow overpowering even that terrible anger with its reek.

That fear-smell was as constant as the rage-scent. They mingled in a disparate cloud around the man, nearly obscuring his essential humanity from fighting through. It was almost as if Anakin wore the two as separate contradictory mantles, at once being the predator and the prey. It was something that Chewbacca could only relate to one experience in his recollection, and it wasn't a pleasant memory. It reminded him vividly of the first time he had been forced to take the life of another creature.

He had been very young, not yet considered an adult. A zzora raptor had attacked his honor-brother while the two of them had been exploring a valley near their home. Chewbacca had been given no choice but to kill the half-kiloton animal, a viciously scaled and venomous beast that had no natural predators besides Kashyyyk's intelligent Wookiee population. Before it had died a dreadful intelligence had flared in its slitted crimson eyes, for the first time in its life fear finding it as the final realization dawned on the deadly creature that it had made a fatal mistake in choosing its prey. At that moment, the razor-fanged zzora raptor had given off nearly the exact scent that Anakin now wore like some poisonous perfume.

Chewbacca, who had miraculously escaped the experience with only a broken arm and a few deep gashes, had both pitied it and mourned for it when at last it had collapsed in death.

The similarities were far from exact. The zzora beast had been a ferocious but dim-witted animal, its anger feral and its terror generated simply from the threat on its life. Chewbacca realized that the nature of what was within Anakin was infinitely more complex. His rage was more deeply rooted and his fear surely more focused, the former directed outward in a strangely controlled halo but the latter undeniably drawn inward. The human's emotions ran far deeper than any wild beast's could have.

But the similarity was strong enough that it roused that strangely apt memory nonetheless.

Perhaps it was the echo of that long-ago pity that made him give Anakin the benefit of the doubt now. But even if Chewbacca had done so, Han Solo had most certainly not.

"Are you talking about Chewie?" Han demanded now.

"You said you're the only one who can pilot this ship," Anakin replied with a dry evenness. "I'm simply pointing out that's not true. The Wookiee's proving that right now."

"Yeah, well, that Wookiee is a better pilot than you ever were, _pops."_ Han stepped over and elbowed Chewbacca in the shoulder. The Wookiee felt a sense of relief as he recognized that Han wanted him out of the pilot's seat and he stood thankfully in response. "But even _he_ doesn't do the fancy flying around here."

That wasn't strictly true, but there was no way Chewbacca was going to stick around and dispute his friend's words when he had finally been given an escape. He slipped out of the cockpit as inconspicuously as a Wookiee could, turning the corner and trying to tune out the continuing argument between the human males he left behind him.

Enough time hadn't passed to make Chewbacca very fatigued, but he decided returning to his quarters was preferable to ending up a witness to another encounter like the one he had just left. The prospect of sitting in a dark silence with his closest friend, whose usual dry wit seemed to have deserted him, was equally as unappealing.

Chewbacca's reluctance to socialize with those he considered members of his honor-family was becoming too familiar, but he wasn't the only one who had started to cultivate a habit of solitary recreation. Dena rarely left her bunk lately, and even Threepio seemed to be making himself scarce. None of them wanted to become involved in the darkening situation Han, Leia and Anakin seemed to be sinking in. All three of the non-humans had found their own ways to play the avoidance game. Chewie often spent time catching up on ship's maintenance that was mostly unnecessary but that kept him busy enough that he was left alone during it, with only R-5 as his sometime company. Dena very infrequently ventured from her own uncomfortably diminutive quarters anymore. Who knew what Threepio was up to.

In any case, he had seen Dena so rarely that Chewbacca nearly didn't notice her when he walked through the common cabin. It was only the buzz of the computer as it scolded her for her keystrokes that made him glance over.

Chewbacca gave a soft growl of greeting as he passed. Dena jumped sharply, obviously surprised, and spun swiftly to face him. He could hear the triple-beat tempo of her heart as she met his gaze and a look of relief replaced her earlier surprise.

"Chewie!" she exclaimed with a laugh in the soft breath of air she released. Her scent changed slightly as she relaxed, but Twi'lek physiology was different enough from Wookiees that he had never really been able to interpret it well. But the smile on her face was warm. "You scared the wits out of me! All I can hear is that awful arguing – I didn't know you were there."

He nodded in resigned agreement before glancing first at the computer console and then back at the blue-skinned Twi'lek, his head tilted in curiosity.

Dena blushed violet. "Computer problems. I'm trying to access some novels Leia uploaded to the rec database and I can't seem to get in. But she's sleeping and I don't want to wake her."

Though he wasn't quite sure what had caused Dena's apparent embarrassment, Chewbacca had long ago come to the conclusion that females of any race seemed to be sensitive to some of the oddest things – though Wookiee females were definitely the least confusing of the lot. Not that he really understood Wookiee females all that well, either, but they were infinitely more sensible than most humanoid races.

He moved forward to offer his help. Even if there was something wrong with the rec database he was sure he could manage to get one of Leia's many novels downloaded into a datapadd for the Twi'lek. Chewbacca knew the ship's computer better than anyone other than Han (and sometimes, he thought with a slightly guilty conceit, even better than Han.) He waved Dena away from the console with a friendly hand.

Dena shook her head as she hit the _off_ switch, and Chewbacca watched the screen flicker once as it went blank. "Thanks, but it's not necessary, Chewie. I'm not sure I want to read the silly things anyways…I'm just so bored, and found a list of reading material that Leia uploaded not too long ago, but quite a few of her books have pretty suspicious names…_The Dark Stars of a Woman's Heart _wasn't the worst of them. I'm not sure I'm _that_ desperate yet." She grinned guiltily. "Not to mention, with my luck I'd get totally addicted to those sappy romances, and I'm not sure I want to risk it when it'll be so much fun to give her a hard time about them."

Though he wasn't quite sure what she was talking about, Chewbacca nodded as Dena shrugged before heading past him. She paused briefly and looked down the hall, where Anakin and Han could still clearly be heard. The Wookiee didn't bother trying to decipher what they were saying. "I hope this doesn't last too much longer. I'm worried about Leia." She sighed. "Well, I guess I'll see you later, Chewie."

Chewbacca watched her until she had rounded the corner and he could hear her door slide shut with a shrill hiss. He turned to cast a frown at the computer she had vacated. Even if she wasn't interested in it, he thought he should make sure the recreational database's retrieval program was working all right. It couldn't be too serious.

As he brought up the fiction archives, Chewbacca gave his full attention to his task, as usual, and barely noticed when the argument in the cockpit ended. Anakin he happily dismissed as he stormed past down the short corridor, knowing that however the conflict had ended it wouldn't be the last of them he would have to witness.

The fiction archives loaded almost instantaneously, and the Wookiee ran through a few maintenance programs to check for any faults in the system. A few seconds into the second test, the computer aborted the program with an irritated buzz. The comm system flashed a message at him, alerting him that a priority communiqué was taking precedence over the recreation files and shutting them down. The notification screen remained only a split second before vanishing, but Chewbacca caught the numerical sequence that let him know it originated from Vegalles.

"_Stop pelting us with messages, you ugly damn squid!" _Han's shout traveled easily down the short corridor. "_Can't you take a hint? We're not here!"_

As far as the Alliance was concerned, that would appear to be the truth – they hadn't replied to a single message. Most of them were identical anyways, short missives that ordered them back to the Alliance base and which said they would receive further information then. Though those messages were piling up, they had decided the easiest way to avoid being forced back to the rebel base was to avoid responding altogether. Han had been quite vocal in his dislike of this plan but his ardent objection had once again been overruled.

Chewbacca didn't like it either, but he didn't seem to get a vote. The human members of the _Falcon's_ current population were making all the decisions, which was out of character for Han to allow and more than a little frustrating for Chewbacca to accept. In a way, he had always felt the _Millennium Falcon_ was not only Han Solo's ship, but his own. For the first time since joining his friend on board the freighter, the _Falcon_ no longer felt like home.

The Wookiee had barely put up protest about this latest mandate, having realized days ago that he would be given a curt acknowledgement before being almost absently dismissed.

As far as communication with the Alliance was concerned, they might as well have allowed Darth Eivel to blast the long range sub-spatial array into rubble back in the Borunn system. Maybe it _was_ the only way they could ensure the Alliance wouldn't realize they were ignoring the orders to return to Vegalles- an act that would be virtually impossible to justify with the events of the past few days – but it also made requesting help if unexpected trouble found them extremely difficult.

Needless to say, Chewbacca didn't consider it exactly the most ideal situation.

When the screen returned to the rec database's primary program, Chewbacca ran through the diagnostic routines again. This time the computer finished quickly, reporting no recognizable errors. Ackbar had probably interrupted Dena's search earlier just as he had disrupted the diagnostics now.

He flipped off the console and paused, noting that Anakin had not returned and Han seemed content with staying in the cockpit. Chewbacca briefly considered joining him but dismissed the idea almost at once. He would stick to his original plan and just head to his quarters. The eye of this storm wouldn't be long if recent history had shown anything.

His quarters might have begun to feel more like the suffocating interior of a _bacta_ tank than his longtime living space, but there was still peace there that was lacking elsewhere aboard the _Falcon._ As he entered the room, the Wookiee thought a bit sadly that even isolated peace was worth the self imposed exile and accompanying boredom. Though Chewbacca wished there was something he could do for his friends, he felt helpless in the situation they found themselves in. He would just have to wait until a situation came up with which he _could_ help them.

In the darkness of space, silence fell like a shroud over the _Millennium Falcon_.

**End of Part 14**


	15. Chapter 15

**The Souls of Demons **

**_By Pyxelle_**

**Chapter 15**

**OoooOoooO**

**On the Deathstar: One week after the Battle of Endor**

"_Is something amiss, Darth Eivel?"_

That's not my name! _Luke thought fiercely, though he knew that now and forever it was what the galaxy would know him as. The title felt too new and far too alien to belong to him, and he didn't like how the weight of his new lightsaber seemed to tug at him when he heard the Sith honorific echo in his ears. In his own mind he was still Luke Skywalker, and even if he might have seemed to leave that name behind, in his own heart Luke Skywalker he would remain. _

_But right then he simply kept quiet._

"_I can sense your confusion, my son," Darth Vader said after Luke did not answer him. "And your grief."_

"_I know," Luke said truthfully. Vader hadn't erected anything but the most simple of shields around himself, allowing Luke to touch his thoughts at will. So far, the young man had not really explored this opportunity. His father's mind, while freely available, was not yet a comfortable domain._

_A part of Luke couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't his hesitancy that was the reason Vader allowed him such freedoms._

"_Why do these feelings still trouble you?" Vader asked when Luke again did not continue._

_Luke felt a sense of disbelief. He stopped and looked pointedly out the viewport they were passing as they continued on to the Emperor's chambers. "Do you really even have to ask, father?"_

_Outside the boundaries of the immense battle station a vast graveyard of ships and debris littered the space around them. Investigating the Alliance ships which had been destroyed during the battle of Endor was no small task, and the Imperial crews were still diligently plowing through it. Luke's eyes traveled over the metal corpses of the rebel ships, the waste of human life and his own still-agonizing decision fueling the anger he felt nascent in his spirit._

"_So many people died, father! So many!" Though Luke could easily sense the cold void in his father as Darth Vader looked at the same field of slaughter he was, the newly turned Sith couldn't fully understand it. "How can their deaths not touch you?"_

_Vader turned to him, the light reflecting off the smooth synthetics that functioned as his eyes, almost making it seem that their gazes were actually locked. The regulated harshness of his respirator didn't waver – _couldn't_ waver - and emotion would never be able to penetrate the black mask that hid his face. Yet Luke still could feel Vader's searching as his father watched him. "Do you find that you are regretting your decision, my son?"_

_Luke blinked at the unexpected question. _Did _he regret it? _

"_I don't know," he admitted honestly after a long moment of contemplation. "What other choice did I have?"_

"_You could have trusted Obi-Wan's judgment and stayed true to the Jedi," Vader replied without pause. "You could have resisted the power of the Dark Side and saved your friends from having to cope with your betrayal of them and the ideals they held sacred."_

"_What?" The Force rushed in his ears, the new excitement of the Dark Side calling madly as Luke felt his fists clench furiously. A part of him knew Vader was baiting him. That part of him also knew what was expected of him, and he accepted the anger his father was inciting. A tingle of excitement thrilled through him. The Dark side was intoxicating even with the mildly chilled breeze that whistled across his mind._

_Besides, it made things easier._

_It helped bury the guilt that still demanded his attention, the sweet shadow of power elevating him above it even though Luke did not draw on the Force. His voice started quietly but built as intensity until he was nearly shouting the last few words. "What good would sacrificing my life have done? Sacrificing Leia's life? The Alliance had lost! Dying with them would only have made us martyrs, but even martyrs can't come back from the grave!"_

"_Obi-Wan would have disagreed," Vader countered with a calmness that was only emphasized by Luke's violence. "He would have said that a martyr's voice is never silenced. He would have reminded you that their words live on far beyond their mortal deaths."_

"_Obi-Wan was a liar!" Luke didn't care that he was allowing Vader to manipulate him. It felt surprisingly good to freely admit his darker thoughts about Obi-Wan, thoughts which had been haunting him ever since the old Jedi's duplicity had been revealed to him in Cloud City. Remembering, he felt his hand twitch towards the never-used Sith lightsaber that hung from his belt. "He lied about his past, he lied about the Force, and he lied about you!"_

"_Because you weren't ready for that knowledge," Vader reminded him of Yoda's words. "He wanted to protect you."_

"_Protect me?" A harsh laugh that felt foreign in his mouth cut the air. Dimly Luke realized that the few people that had been in the corridors with them had vanished. "How could keeping me ignorant help him _protect_ me? It was the arrogance about his precious ideals that nearly killed me! Making sure I saw the nature of the Force through his eyes, his views, _his _truths! Obi-Wan was terrified of the Dark side and his instruction left me blind to the full power of the Force."_

"_He taught you the ways of the Jedi," Vader reminded him._

" _The Jedi were hypocrites – you showed me that, father. He was content to leave me ignorant in order to keep the conceit about his own moral superiority intact. Of course I wasn't ready to fight you in Cloud City! I nearly died there because of those damn Jedi beliefs!"_

"_Yet you forgave him and came to me with Obi-Wan's same naïve belief in your own superior morality," Vader reminded him harshly. "You were willing to sacrifice your own life for those same vaunted ideals."_

"_And I nearly killed Leia for it," Luke responded bitterly. "I had to watch countless people die. I could have tried to stop the Alliance's attack. I could have tried to find a way to prevent it before they began a campaign that was doomed to failure."_

"_And what would you have done?" Vader asked. "Asked them to spend the rest of their lives running and hiding? Convinced them to join the Empire?"_

_Luke didn't have an answer for him. "I don't know, but I should have done something!"_

"_Your belief was strong that I would be drawn back in by the Jedi dogma," Vader said. "But even so you held doubt. Despite Obi-Wan and Yoda's deceptions, you knew before coming to me that there was more to the Force than they had allowed you to learn. Deep inside, you knew the only choice would be to join me. Is it possible that you _also_ knew they were going to fail?"_

"_No!"_

"_Why grieve for those who you knew were going to die?"_

"_Respect!" Luke was nearly trembling. Vader's words tore at him, and almost without realizing it Luke had begun to let the Force's uncivilized essence swell strongly within him. He could still feel the countering power of the Light side, but its calm sea would in no way satisfy the dark, deep well inside him, nor do justice to the power he now knew he had. "Whether or not the Alliance considers me a traitor, I can still understand their motivations. Just because I can see a larger picture now doesn't mean I wanted them to die. I can still have respect for the dead!"_

"_You may not have wanted them to die, but you were willing to sacrifice their lives when you came to me on Endor," the relentless Sith Lord continued without mercy. "You rested their lives on naïve beliefs you know now to be false. Beliefs that even _then_ you knew to be false."_

"_I couldn't have known-"_

"_Are you going to take refuge in untruths as Obi-Wan did, Luke?" Vader asked. "Obi-Wan spun a tale for you of a murdered hero and a idealized Jedi Order. He sacrificed himself before your eyes, birthing a Jedi martyr in your mind and creating a monster out of me. Yoda could have told you the truth before he let you depart from Dagobah. But he let you leave even though he was fully aware you would have to face me, knowing that even if you succeeded in killing me you would have never forgiven yourself for killing your own father. _

" _I did not lie to you and I will not accept _your_ lies. When you saw the Jedi treachery in the memories I allowed you to witness – to _relive_ - it was not the first time you had encountered their duplicity. You yourself admit that the Jedi had kept you ignorant of the Force, and yet you chose to rest all on Obi-Wan's teachings...and _now_ you choose to grieve."_

"_I didn't know the Emperor had been aware of our attack!" Luke said with a white heat that had building since his first glance out the viewport. "I didn't know we were going to fail!"_

"_Failure deserves no respect," Darth Vader stated callously. "Those you grieve for deserve no respect."_

_Something snapped in Luke, and the cause behind his anger was forgotten as his the still unfamiliar maelstrom of the Dark side thundered in his head. His lightsaber flew to his hand almost of its own accord. The shimmering red blade sliced the air with a familiarly dangerous hum, its arc curving wide as it sped towards his father's throat. In the glow that glinted off his dark armor, Darth Vader spun, the black cape that covered his biomechanical suit swirling around him in a shadowy halo and his own lightsaber flashing into life. The two Sith blades met for the first time in a shower of sparks._

"_Respect in this galaxy comes with only one thing, and that is power," Darth Vader said icily. There was no thought as Luke swung wildly at his father, feeling the retreat Vader was being forced to make and the sudden arrogant satisfaction that accompanied it. Luke flipped the red lightsaber in his hand, the red glow forming a nearly perfect circle of light as it spun several times before striking his father's blade again, but this time they stayed locked with each other for a cold moment, becoming a test of strength over skill. "Power is _all_ the galaxy respects."_

_In a dark flash, Luke suddenly realized what he was doing and he stepped back sharply. But his lightsaber still flared in his hand, the untamed emotions in him holding sway in his mind, making it difficult for him to deny the desire to silence the accusing voice of his father._

"_I have the power to kill you, Lord Vader," the black words felt alien as to him as his Sith title, and yet as right as the Dark side's essence when he heard them through the Force's wild song. "And I think you know it."_

"_It is possible, Lord Eivel, that you could kill me," Vader agreed without fear in his machine's voice or in his dark but human thoughts. "You might even be praised for it from your Master. Do you wish to end my life, my son? Have you lost yourself to the Dark side so completely? "_

Yes! _a part of him shouted in his mind._

No!_ another part denied in horror._

_Luke found some strange battle in his mind being fought, almost as if he were an observer in his own head, but finally his warring thoughts allowed him back his control. He retracted his crimson blade and snapped it to his belt with hands that trembled. _

"_No," Luke said quietly, squeezing his fingers into the palms of his hands and focusing on the pain. It helped him to gain power over his own mind a little. "I'm sorry, father."_

"_Do not apologize," Darth Vader said, his own lightsaber disappearing in to the folds of his cape. "You must learn to harness that anger, my son, if you are to learn the ways of the Dark side. There is no shame in it."_

_Luke couldn't help the sardonic smile he felt touch his lips. "Obi-Wan would have said otherwise."_

"_Obi-Wan taught you the ways of the Jedi, and he taught you well," Vader said, "but the Dark side is not the eager ally the Light is. You must be willing to accept even your darkest emotions, for the darker nature of the Force needs the full strength of your spirit to be controlled. The Dark fights passionately and its Master must possess that same passion."_

"_But how can you keep from being consumed by it?" Luke asked, still feeling the Force swirl around him. His curiosity blanketed his earlier shame with a surprising ease. "Yoda said the path to the Dark side was easier, but while the power does come almost without effort, I can't seem to control it!"_

"_That is where the difficulty lies," Vader said. "We must use our passions, but direct them. A moment's anger, a flash of hatred…we must accept these but keep them cold. Hard. Controlled. Let them grow, feed them, and then gather their strength and force them to submit to you."_

"_And what of other emotions, father? What of joy? Love?" Luke's anger wilted as he once more looked across the remnants of the Alliance's last stand. "Grief?"_

_When Vader answered, it was not to respond to his words, nor was it done aloud. _Come. The Emperor is expecting us.

_Luke followed his father, the words in his head clear as day compared to his own stormy thoughts. In a way, it was if Vader was still describing the Jedi way, preaching emotional control…_

"_Do you remember the destruction of the first Deathstar, my son?"_

_Luke wasn't expecting Vader to talk, and his answer left his lips with no thought. "Of course. I shot the missile that destroyed it."_

"_I know," Darth Vader said, still walking calmly. "Over five hundred thousand people were on that battle station when it's power core detonated. Five hundred thousand. Tell me…after the battle was over, did you grieve for them?"_

_A terrible shock echoed throughout Luke. _Five hundred thousand people…

"_Come, Lord Eivel. Our Master does not like to be kept waiting."_

_It was only with Darth Vader's prompting that Luke realized that he had frozen in his steps. Vader waited briefly until Luke had reached him. The young man struggled for the words to answer his father. "Father, I-"_

"_Think on the lessons you have learned today, my son." Darth Vader interrupted him. "Think hard on them. How was the slaughter of five hundred thousand Imperial citizens a cause for celebration when the loss of a few thousand rebels is a tragedy? If all the galaxy respects is power, what gives an ideal the power to justify murder?"_

_Luke's mouth opened to respond, his mind immediately lighting on the memory of the example made of Alderaan. Darth Vader never gave him the chance. _

"_Do not answer now. Think on it." They had almost reached the Emperor's chambers, where Luke's lessons would begin in earnest today. "And remember one important fact – I do not ask you to tell me who is right or wrong. Do not deny your emotions that remembering can bring, but keep them cold…keep them controlled. Allow your anger at the futility of your friends' deaths to rise. Explore the hatred. There is so much power behind hatred – the hatred towards the Emperor, towards me, towards the foolish leaders of the Alliance who sent your friends to an inevitable death…so much passion! Do not be ashamed at the passionate pride you felt when the missile struck home and you felt your power swell. In your mind, there was something greater you fought for…something that gave you the power to ignore those lives on the first Deathstar and accept their deaths as a necessary sacrifice. Find that part of you that accepted the clarity. Seek out what secret sliver of spirit which did not even consider guilt. It is that part of you that you must know in order to control the Dark side."_

"_I…I will try, father," Luke stammered. _

"_As you continue your lessons, my son, you will see that we were never very different, you and I." Darth Vader stopped and turned to him. "Perhaps you should discuss this with your sister. The medics say she is doing better, yes? I have yet to visit her, but I am sure you have. As a politician, Leia should know well the necessity for a certain distance from the unpleasant reality of mortality."_

_Luke squirmed uncomfortably. Despite his promises, he had yet to return to Leia and explain. It had been several days now, and though he had been kept apprised of her condition, he had continually found reasons to avoid the medical bay. "Perhaps."_

_It was impossible to interpret any of Darth Vader's emotions through his inhuman façade. "Come. This has been your first lesson. Now we go to our Master."_

"_Yes, father." Luke knew he was going to have to speak to Leia soon. Tonight…but after his Master had finished with him. As his father said, his new Master didn't like to be kept waiting. _

_As he walked through the Emperor's chamber, he grasped the Dark side sharply, forcing it into his mind's harness and gripping its reins tightly. His mind became surprisingly cold and he accepted the clarity of the Dark side without question. _

_That was where the Jedi were wrong, he suddenly realized. They were afraid of the Dark side because they were afraid they would not learn to control it – but Luke knew he could. He _would_. It was easy to see how the weaker Jedi would have rejected its power, afraid of being burned to dark snowflakes of ash in the full power of the Force._

_But Luke_

(Darth Eivel)

_knew that he had the power to master it…and so did Leia. She had the same abilities he had, and suddenly he felt a fierce pride in their shared power…and the possibilities before them now._

Leia.

**OoooOoooO**

_**On the Deathstar: One year after the Battle of Endor**_

_Leia._

Had she received his offer yet? Darth Eivel thought word of it had to have reached her by now. He couldn't help wondering just what the Alliance High Council's reaction to his proclamations would be, either…and whether or not they would _want _her to even _see _it. The Council would not be happy about what was revealed in those papers, although in all honesty it was the only tether to life most of them really had.

Eivel selected a plain, serviceable black shirt out of the scant contents of his wardrobe and absently pulled it over his head. Though he had slept only a few hours, he felt refreshed, and a strange kind of stillness he didn't quite recognize had greeted him from his sleep. The Force, its dual nature calm for the moment, did not tempt him, and a numb silence comforted him while he finished dressing. For the first time since the death of Darth Sidious, his mind was almost calm, and the remembrance of those first days after claiming his Sith title was something he found he could regard with a steady dispassion.

There wasn't much chance that Leia _hadn't _become aware of the amnesty, but he wondered if she had figured out the code to his private communiqué yet. Eivel was sure that she would have realized that the message was voice-coded, but the words to release the message would be the key. If she didn't use the right phrase, his message to her could go unread forever.

Darth Eivel didn't think that would be the case. Leia was a smart woman, and it couldn't take her long to figure out what the unlock phrase was. As he thought of it, the memory of their last encounter before she had escaped the Deathstar after the Battle of Endor surfaced briefly in his head.

_I don't know you. I don't know who you are, but you're not Luke Skywalker. _

The truth of those words hadn't hit home until she had said them, and even now Darth Eivel hated to recall it. He dismissed the memory with an ease that would have surprised him at one time. He headed to the refresher and allowed more pertinent thoughts to fill his head.

_I have to make a statement about the memorial and make sure it's sent over all major frequencies, _he thought absently as he ran a damp comb through his short hair to tame the dark blond locks. _My absence won't go unnoticed._

Eivel was just glad the Deathstar was far enough away from Coruscant that it wasn't suspicious that he hadn't gone back to the Imperial home planet for the Emperor's memorial. This far into space, Emperor Palpatine's body had been sealed inside a black bullet of a casket and sent to be entombed on Coruscant.

Darth Eivel had sealed the casket himself and was confident that it would not be easily breached. His precautions were probably unnecessary. It was true there were far too many questions about the Emperor's death...questions that were not given voice but were present in many gazes that touched him lately. But it was _also _true that Darth Eivel hadn't had to quiet any over-inquisitive medical staff over the cause of death. They had simply accepted his explanations.

There just didn't seem to be anyone who cared enough to question them. Those eyes he felt only touched him briefly...and moved on.

Except, of course, the darkly suspicious eyes of General Torren and the other senior officers.

But they were already being dealt with.

Even if they somehow did gain possession of the casket, it would do them no good. How would they explain an empty casket without casting some dark light on themselves as well? How could they be free from suspicion if they claimed the Emperor's body had never been sealed in the casket at all?

Which it hadn't been, of course...Darth Eivel had his own plans for disposing of the Sith Lord's mortal shell...

...but that had to wait. Right now he had more immediate matters on mind. Such as how General Torren and his cronies would deal with their new assignments, which would be given to them today. If there was going to be any trouble about the Emperor's death, it was likely to be started with the current senior officers. In order to neutralize that threat, Vesra had already found new posts to 'honor' the Emperor's elite. He had spread them so far apart that it would take weeks for one of them to simply get a secure message to another. In fact, just traveling to most of the assignment posts could take weeks. And some of the senior officers were in delicate health.

Who knew how many would survive the trip?

Darth Eivel hoped that stabilizing the senior officer core would be enough. He felt that as long as he eliminated the threat General Torren presented, the rest of the core would quickly crumble. The aging general would be the one any dissident officers rallied around.

Chronis Torren had been to Darth Vader what Doran Vesra was to Darth Eivel - the closest thing to an advisor either Sith would allow. But Torren also carried the weight of twenty years of service with him, and his long-standing assignment as the Supreme Leader of Vader's elite forces granted him an authority that went far beyond that of his actual rank. He was the real threat from within the Empire, and Darth Eivel knew it.

Eivel had felt distaste for the idea of claiming Darth Sidious' throne, a feeling that actually bordered on outright disgust, but that hadn't been the only reason he had declared himself Imperial Regent instead of Emperor. One of them had been that he knew Torren was still loyal to Darth Vader. Eivel could sense that Torren had not accepted the fact that Vader had turned traitor, and the general barely bothered to hide his aversion to Eivel himself. He wore his suspicion openly. If Darth Eivel had named himself the next Emperor, that suspicion might have grown into outright rebellion.

Which was exactly what Eivel was trying to avoid.

In Chronis Torren's eyes, with the death of Emperor Palpatine the Empire now belonged to Darth Vader – not his son. It would have been easiest to simply dispose of him, but Darth Eivel knew that he was in a precarious position. The entire galaxy was watching him, waiting to see if the young man who had come out of nowhere a year before was Palpatine's heir in spirit as well as in name. He couldn't afford to begin his Regency with bloodshed – there was precious little time to establish his past deeds as mere extensions of Emperor Palpatine's rule and not his own. Separating himself from the cruel shadow of the Emperor would not be easy, but it was necessary.

His denial of the title of Emperor had let Darth Eivel begin to step out of that shadow. Declaring himself Regent indicated that Eivel's position was that of a caretaker, not a monarch - which was entirely true, though not in the way that most of the galaxy – or Chronis Torren - believed.

It was almost a shame, because Vader's instincts about General Torren had been quite keen. He had a shrewd mind and a very strong will, and his long association with Darth Vader had lent him a certain respect across the worlds of the Empire. He could have been a valuable asset, but as things were he was simply one more dusty relic to be shelved as Eivel tried to dispose of the clutter left by the death of Darth Sidious and the aftermath of Darth Vader's treason.

Once the Empire was purged of them, Darth Eivel could begin working towards the vision he had sacrificed so much for. It would begin aboard the Deathstar, but he knew to give peace and security to the galaxy he would need more than just the devastating power of the massive battle station. He would need to resolve the problem of the Rebellion. Whether the Alliance leaders admitted it or not, it had received a mortal wound during the Battle of Endor. Once they found the Rebel base it would be easy to reach out and crush the last breath out of the Alliance in the Empire's fist - but Darth Eivel knew the Alliance was on the verge of becoming a martyr in and of itself, and he refused to allow that to happen.

Darth Eivel needed to strip the power from the _ideals _of the Alliance...and for that, he needed Leia.

It always came back to her. Leia.

Eivel glanced quickly in the mirror, straightening his collar and ensuring that his hair was neatly combed. The circular pattern of his thoughts would not bring him any closer to his goals. That would take cunning and determination, not to mention hard work – most of which would have to be done by him. There were too few people he could trust. He thought briefly of Captain Vesra. He hoped that Vesra had come up with some suggestions regarding new officers. Darth Eivel needed to start building a secure base of talent that he could _rely _on.

As if able to sense his thoughts, there was a chirp from the comm system. He started to turn away, opening his mouth to answer it.

Just before he had tapped the control that would respond to the comm, Darth Eivel's reflection registered in his mind and he whipped his head back to face the mirror. His mouth snapped shut with an audible _crack_!

He stared at the traitorous mirror, barely breathing. At first glance, nothing was different. The dark blonde hair was as it should be, its short length tamed easily by a simple combing. Similarly, the bone structure of his face was unchanged and the smooth skin of youth still proclaimed his relative innocence of age from the silvered surface. But from those familiar features, a stranger gazed back at him through inhuman amber eyes, the blue of his childhood having fled them completely.

Darth Eivel knew the Dark Side's untamed power could not be hidden completely. Its presence managed to touch the eyes of its Master when it was being channeled, something that not even Darth Sidious had been able to control. Darth Eivel himself had used the surge of the Dark Side as a way to enforce his word without the vulgarity of making actual threats. Sometimes obedience only required a helpful reminder of who really held the power.

But Eivel _wasn't _holding the Force right now - he wasn't even touching it. The sense of it was still present, but from the moment he had awoken there had been no communion with its whirlpools of energy. There should have been no reason the Dark Side was asserting its presence now.

(_but Darth Sidious had_ … he _had… he showed an animal behind his eyes… a demon hiding within…)_

Darth Eivel closed his eyes and breathed deeply in an attempt to steady the unexpected horror that burst through his mind's door. The frozen plateaus of his mind spread before him, familiar and reassuring. This was the place his mind retreated when meditating on the Dark Side of the Force. It was where his passions were sculpted into deadly and deliberate weapons and where his mind could focus with elegant crystalline clarity to subdue the chaos of the Dark Side to the purpose of it's master.

_Control...Power...Clarity..._

But clarity eluded him, dancing away from his thoughts with a mocking laugh, and his control slipped away again and again as he tried to bend his rebelling emotions to his will. A terrible sense of helplessness laid its withered hand on him, poisoning his will and tainting his spirit with fear.

_The dark fights passionately, and its Master must possess that same passion..._ the hated voice of his father reminded him from his memory.

It was through their passions that the Sith gained the power of the Force. That was why the power of the Dark side came so easily. All one needed to feel its power was to feel emotion – and the stronger the emotion, the greater the power. Anger and hatred were essential to the Sith because of this - they were quickly felt and easily inspired. They were usually very strong. But they could also overwhelm you..

If the Light side of the Force was a warm and gentle current that flowed through a Jedi, then the Dark side was a cold and rushing torrent that surged into a Sith. Working _with_ that wild power was not an option. It had to be controlled. Passions were merely tools – while the Jedi trained to release their emotions and accept the serenity necessary to work _with_ the Force, the Sith trained to turn their passions into the tools to control it.

The Jedi saw the Force as their ally – which is why the power they possessed would always be weaker than that of the Sith. They took only what the Force was willing to give, limiting themselves by fearing to reach for more. They denied emotions because they could not control them.

The Sith did not see the Force as an ally or an enemy or even as a tool…they saw it as a slave.

The Sith were more powerful than the Jedi because they were true Masters of the Force…but if one was not strong enough, just as one can become a slave to anger, one could become a slave to the Dark side.

Darth Eivel had learned that lesson, but the golden gaze in the mirror told him he had not learned it well enough. The Dark had left its mark on him, and he had not been able to stop it from happening. He had not been able to _control_ it.

The Dark had declared Darth Eivel its creature.

_It had declared itself his Master._

Eivel's heart began beating in his chest in a fast and terrified rhythm.

_There are still a great many things for you to learn, my young apprentice..._the rotting silk of Darth Sidious' voice caressed his thoughts from his memory, _more than you know... _

The thudding panic-drum of his heart continued to beat fiercely. It had been through Eivel's own actions he had been left without someone to guide him. If the Dark side had placed its demon brand on him, it had been his arrogance that had allowed it to do so.

_So you accept your mark of slavery, Darth Eivel? _his mind whispered to him in Sidious' voice.

Darth Eivel ignored it and released every current of power within him. He needed the clarity afforded by the Force, but he couldn't allow himself to fail again. He needed to be centered within his own body. Needed to lay claim to his own mind, alone, before he would have the strength to force the Dark Side to submit to him again.

_Control...Power...Clarity... _

He relaxed his muscles and felt the flow of the blood in his veins slow to a crawl.

_Control...Power...Clarity (serenity)... _

His heart began to beat in rhythm with the pulse of his thoughts, slowing...slowing...

_Control...Power (peace)...Clarity (serenity)... _

...entering silence...

_Control(calm)...Power (peace)...Clarity(serenity)... _

...allowing his thoughts to rest, making no demands...

_Calm (control)...Power (peace)...Serenity (clarity)... _

...being one with his mind and body, achieving harmony between the sharp ring of his conscious thought and the bell-like sound of his spirit...

_Calm (control)...Peace (power)...Serenity... _

...becoming calm...being at peace...

_Calm (control)...Peace...Serenity... _

…finding serenity…

_Calm...Peace...Serenity... _

...and the Force flowed through him.

The tangled knot of his of his thoughts and fears had been placed aside, and his consciousness was distilled into the essence of him that resided solely within the Force. He had no name here. Identity became irrelevant in a world created entirely within one's own mind. Here he could feel the Force around him like a tranquil sea and it did not threaten him. Here it would not fight.

Here he was safe.

The young man reached for the power thrumming throughout the Force. He fumbled with it, commanding it to obey, but it slipped through his mind's fingers. He tried again, but the harder he tried to control it the faster it seemed to evade him.

A wave born of a sudden frustration from his failure shook the very seas, and for a moment it seemed as if they would dissolve into the sky.

_What am I doing wrong?_

To the young man's great surprise, he was answered.

_Calm yourself, you must, or far too easily will the Dark Side claim you._

_What?_ The young man's baffled voice broke the stillness. The tangle of thoughts he had put to sleep rumbled. _Master_ _Yoda_?

_In this place, the Force is your ally. A slave it is not. Obey your commands, the Force will not._

From the murky depths of his mind the image of the once-revered Jedi Master and legend joined him.

_Taught you this, I did, _Yoda reminded him gently. _Forgotten your lessons, have you? _

_Yoda?_

_Forgotten me as well, it seems, _Yoda's reprimand was softened by the sadness in his voice. _Hmm, yes. Forgotten much, you have. Even yourself. _

_Yoda is dead, _the young man said/thought, and the seas trembled again. The tangle of his thoughts was unraveling, and Darth Eivel began coming back to himself with a rapid intensity. _I saw him die...you're just another weak memory. You're not real._

Nonetheless, the dead and unreal Jedi spoke.

_Dead I may be, but real I am!_ Yoda said sternly. _If from young Skywalker's mind I come, real I still am! If a mere memory I am, _real I still am!

_You're just a part of Skywalker that hasn't admitted he's dead yet._

_More foolish than a daysworn padawan you are, Lord Eivel,_ the Jedi Master said, shaking his head. _Luke Skywalker, you are. _

_That name no longer has any meaning for me, _Darth Eivel snapped._ Luke Skywalker died when I accepted the burden of my father's birthright. I am a Sith. _

_Hmph. A parlor trickster, you are,_ Lord Eivel. There was no mistaking the scorn in Yoda's voice_. A Jedi Master, you could have been._

_I am my_ own _Master!_ Darth Eivel didn't know if he was truly touching some remnant of Yoda's spirit, or if some wretched part of his puerile alter-ego was making a futile effort at resurrecting itself.

He wondered if it even mattered.

_Young Luke Skywalker, a Master he would have been. A slave to the Dark side, you are._

_Slave! _Eivel snarled, a sound that carried acidic hate to the shadow of the great Jedi. _You are in my mind,_ Master _Yoda! Phantom or not, you do not have the right to be here! **GET OUT!**_

_In the bloody tomb of a Sith mind, I have no wish to be,_ Yoda seemed untouched by the bilious currents of Darth Eivel's thoughts. _Called here, I was. _

_Not by me! _

The look on Yoda's face was almost amused. _Know your own mind you do not, Lord Eivel. Call me here, you did. _

Disgust with his own weakness flooded him when he realized that just moments ago, in his desperation, he had done just that...he _had _called this phantom to him. The gnome's presence, whether ghostly or a mere remembrance, had been invited when he had allowed his fear to let the Jedi weakness creep back into him. He had given welcome when he had retreated into his own mind, cowering in terror from the very power he had sworn to master by hiding from the Force...escaping from it with the same methods Yoda had taught him long ago on Dagobah.

Darth Eivel finally understood why the Dark side had been able to leave its brand on him.

It had marked him as weak because he _was _weak.

That ended now.

Darth Eivel found that hatred for his own Jedi weakness had already coalesced within him, waiting for his will to command it. His anger might be directed towards himself for letting his fear gain power over him, but it became the tool he could use to banish that fear. He had to gain control. Had to have strength. Yoda's very presence - phantom, memory, or vision - was tearing at his mind, letting doubts trickle in, making regrets he had deeply buried rise from their graves to taunt him. If he allowed it to continue, the Dark side would never submit to him. The Force would know he was weak, and it would only scorn him before it swallowed him. It would consume him. It would devour him.

It would drive him mad.

_Control... _

_Power... _

_Clarity... _

As if by some silent cue, the Jedi Master and the Sith Lord began to speak. Their words melded together in a strange and terrible harmony.

_(...there is no emotion; there is peace) _

**_...Peace is a lie _**

_(there is no passion) _

**There is _ONLY _passion **

_(there is serenity) _

**Through passion I gain _strength _**

_(there is no ignorance) _

**Through _strength _I gain _power _**

_(there is knowledge) _

**Through _power _I gain _victory _**

_(there is no death) _

**Through victory _my chains are broken _**

**_(There is the Force.) _  
_The Force shall set me free! _**

Master Yoda's voice faded to silence. Dream or phantom, he was gone, and the sense of relief Darth Eivel felt was almost staggering.

_I am not a slave!_ Darth Eivel thought fiercely, andopened his eyes.

In the mirror, the feral golden of a caged animal still stared back at him.

There was the sound of shattering glass, and a spider web of cracks suddenly blanketed his reflection.

Eivel abruptly realized that his right hand, the one that was no longer flesh and blood, had begun to signal him with the strange numb-tickling sensation that replaced actual pain in the artificial limb. He glanced down, realizing that it had been his fist that had shattered the mirror as his gaze lit upon the circuitry that was revealed by the many small but deep slashes that covered his hand. None of the shards had damaged the circuitry, but the artificial nature of the limb was impossible to miss. The silver-blue glint of wire that shone through the gashes gave its mechanical nature away easily, but somehow the torn syntheskin was what Darth Eivel found himself staring at. It curled up and away from the tiny electromotors, exposing lifeless machinery instead of flesh and blood. The damage could be easily repaired, but this small accident had been all that was needed to show the galaxy he wasn't human anymore.

Not entirely human, at any rate.

_Like Darth Sidious' eyes…like _my _eyes…not human. Not anymore._

The comm system chirped again, and he stormed from the refresher, hitting the switch to respond with unnecessary violence.

"What?"

_"Lord Eivel, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I thought you would want to be notified immediately if there was anything found in the Emperor's files-"_

"I believe that is what I asked for, Captain," Darth Eivel snapped back.

There was a pause. _"Yes, my lord," _Captain Vesra said through the electronic connection. _"We've been able to decrypt several of the communication logs. Most of them don't have much useful information, and the sheer size of the logs is staggering, so we've been working backwards from the most recent-"_

"I hope this is going somewhere, Captain."

Another pause. "_Yes, my lord. The point is that we've just decrypted a message received only a few days ago. The encryption was done using an older technology, so we've determined that it could have been sent as long ago as six weeks…it's hard to be sure, with the information-"_

"Captain!"

_"It's the source of the message, Lord Eivel. I must say I'm baffled as to-" _Vesra seemed uncharacteristically tentative, and Eivel felt an answering exasperation.

"My patience is growing thin, Captain," he said, heading for the doors of his quarters, and away from damning mirror. His hand could wait. And the other…change…it didn't matter. _It doesn't. _"I still don't know what the message is about, much less where it's from. Get on with it."

_"It contains the location of the new Rebellion base, my Lord. A planet in the Vegalles system."_

Darth Eivel stopped dead, his door hissing shut behind him. "And where did it come from?"

_"That's the strange part…"_

"Captain…"

_"The_ Falcon,_ my lord,_" Vesra said without another moment's hesitation. _"The message was sent from the _Millennium Falcon."

**End of Part 15**


	16. Chapter 16

_Sorry about the lack of updates, all. FYI, Chapter 15 has been seriously rewritten (addition of several pages of material...) so I'd recommend reading it again before continuing. Work has been crazy, but the truth of it was that chapter 16 just is giving me an ulcer. I did have it almost finished, and then realized I didn't like how it had been executed at all. So I cut some scenes and threw them in a 'scenes' folder and have been trying to rewrite it ever since. _

_I've finally broke my writer's block…I was beginning to despair...I literally have tossed over thirty-three pages of crap that was possible material for this...I know where I want this to go, I just couldn't seem to get it there. It might not be Stephen King quality or even Dr. Seuss but the damn thing is finally getting written in a way that I'm finding a modicum of happiness with._

_I hope you enjoy it…_

**The Souls of Demons**

**Chapter 16**

_**By Pyxelle**_

OoooOoooO

**On the Deathstar: One Week after the Battle of Endor**

_"It must have been beautiful."_

_Threepio came up behind Leia, the plush wine-red carpeting muffling the sound of the droid's footsteps. "To what are you referring, Princess Leia?"_

_Leia didn't turn from the viewport that encompassed most of the far wall. Though the quarters she had been moved into two days before were opulent and quite large, Leia had spent most of her time at this viewport. The black velvet of space seemed very vast, but she knew that the Deathstar was only days away from the world that once was considered the Jewel of the Old Republic. "The Jedi Temple."_

"_I wouldn't be able to say, princess. I was activated after the Jedi were destroyed."_

"_I've seen the ruins of it, of course." That had been during her term serving in the mockery of democracy that had been the Imperial Senate, but even then they had touched something deep within her that she had never fully understood. To her, the darkened ruins of the Jedi Temple had never been just crumbling testament to the ideals of the Old Republic. During her infrequent times there as a child, they were the very essence of ghost stories, the physical embodiment of every haunted castle and ghostly starship those stories told of. As an adult, a deep silence would fall over her every time she had seen them. An undefined grief that was far more personal than she had ever been able to understand had been attached to the husk of the Order's home. _

_Now that strange sorrow made more sense. With the revelation that she was the child of Anakin Skywalker, and sensitive to the Force herself, it did not surprise her that the Jedi Temple had affected her in the way that it had._

_Even now, the vision that flashed in her mind sent a shiver up her spine. The Temple had been easily visible from the building that housed the Imperial Senate, and it had not lost its majesty despite the long years and the battle scars of the Jedi Purge. Old scars, Leia knew, but when the crimson light of the sunset would touch them, they had looked raw and bleeding. In her more melancholy moments, she would sometimes wonder how many Jedi had died within it's walls the night the entirety of the Order had been declared traitors. The Jedi had been renowned warriors, and the temple must have been alive with battle and fire during their final moments. Some nights, before darkness would drape the Temple in a funeral shroud, a ray of dying light would catch the pinnacle of the once-magnificent building and set it aflame. If you looked long enough, you could almost see smoke still rising from the ashes of the great building._

_On those nights it looked as if the Jedi Temple had never stopped burning._

_"I would think that the Temple looked quite a bit different before the Purge," Threepio said, and a note of sadness crept into his fastidious voice. "If Artoo Deetoo were here, he might have been able to tell you. I believe a previous owner of his lived on Coruscant during the Clone Wars."_

_Leia glanced at the droid in subdued amusement. "Yes, Threepio. Bail Organa. My father was a Senator, remember? For years he kept apartments there for when the Senate was in session, and during the most of the Clone Wars he stayed on Coruscant exclusively. Alderaan donated the use of many of our ships and equipment to the Republic, and a lot of it is still in use now. I can't be sure, but he could have been one of the droids we donated. Maybe he was used by one of the fighter pilots. He's good with the fighters, I know - Luke wouldn't get in his X-wing without him."_

_"Oh, yes, Princess Leia, Artoo has always been an excellent astro-droid, although I think Master Luke might be a bit too lenient with him. Artoo's always been somewhat overconfident, but he had been getting downright arrogant. Self-importance is quite unseemly in a droid." Threepio hesitated, and when he spoke the fussy tone he had been using was gone. "Princess, do you think Artoo's all right? I'm so worried about him."_

_"I don't know, Threepio," said Leia honestly. Threepio had been brought to the Deathstar with Han and Leia, but Artoo had not. He must have appeared to be unsalvageable to the Stormtroopers, or at least not worth the effort at the time. He had been ignored and left on the moon's surface with the smoke still rising from his scorched casing. She thought it unlikely that the little droid had been retrieved by the Alliance, but it was possible. Hopefully there had been a few rebel survivors that had escaped the Endor moon, and perhaps one of them had salvaged C-3PO's counterpart. _

_It was _more_ likely the Stormtroopers had gone back to retrieve him later. If that was the case, Artoo-Detoo had probably been either reprogrammed or disposed of by now, but she didn't want to tell that to Threepio. "He's a tough little droid, and he's gotten out of some pretty messy situations before. We can hope."_

_"Oh, I do hope so, princess. We've worked together since I was activated," Threepio said. "I just don't know what I'd do without him."_

_"Believe me, Threepio, I understand how you feel." Leia couldn't imagine her life without Han or Luke anymore. Her thoughts had ricocheted between the two of them ever since she had woken in the medical bay days earlier. Han had been alive when she had least seen him on the Endor moon, just before they had been brought to the Deathstar. That meant nothing now. A man's life could be ended in less than a second. She had no idea where he was, or what was happening to him - her only reassurance that he was even still _alive_ had been given by Luke the day before she was moved to the habitation ring. And Luke…_

_Leia's worries about Luke were far different than her ones about Han. The idea that Luke would have betrayed the Rebel Alliance was ludicrous. He was one of the greatest heroes of the Rebellion, but more than that, Luke was committed to doing what was _right_. That idealism had been present when she had first met him, but had matured with him as the years had passed. His time studying on Dagobah with Jedi Master Yoda had changed him the most. The Jedi had been said to be selfless, but it was only after Luke had returned from Dagobah the second time that Leia had begun to truly understand what that meant. It was almost as if he saw himself merely as a tool of the Force, created to do its bidding - a vital component in some vast galactic machine built to serve life but not one of those it had been created for. He would do anything, even sacrifice his own life, to help those he felt responsible for – and he had viewed the entire galaxy as his responsibility. He had even surrendered himself to Darth Vader, a murderer without equal, because he had believed his father_

(our father)

_could still return to the Light side of the Force. Because Luke thought he could still sense the faint beating of Anakin Skywalker's heart inside the mechanical armor of Darth Vader, he had been unable to walk away from the chance he could bring the fallen Jedi out of darkness. The idea that he would _choose_ that darkness was ridiculous. It was preposterous. There _had_ to be some explanation – she just wished he would come soon and give it to her._

_Because until then, it was hard to dismiss the fear that had been gnawing at her since his visit…hard to forget how she had sensed something different about him. Something that had frightened her._

_"Princess?"_

_Leia realized that she had lapsed into silence. "I'm sorry, Threepio, my mind wandered for a moment."_

_"That's quite all right, your Highness. I was just wondering if you would need me any more tonight. I'd like to run a self-diagnostic, and that will take several hours. I wouldn't want to leave you without help, though."_

_"No, that's fine, Threepio," Leia told him. "Is something wrong with your systems?"_

_"Oh, no, not really, princess. It's just routine. To tell the truth, I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that my data core has become frightfully messy. It's absolutely disgraceful how badly my files have become fragmented, and I've actually had my alpha-3 sub-processor activate a few times. Sub-processors three and four are strictly supplemental. I've been neglecting myself for far too long."_

_"Then run your diagnostics, Threepio." Leia was no engineer, but she did know that most droids only had two processing units, a primary and a secondary. Whoever had built Threepio had certainly wanted to make sure the droid had no problems with involuntary downtime. "I'll be fine."_

_"You're certain? I realize I'm the only assistance you have right now, and-"_

_"Threepio, really, I'm fine! You're of no use to anyone if you start to malfunction," Leia tried to soften the sharp comment with a smile. "You wouldn't want your fourth sub-processor to start kicking in, after all. Your entire memory could get corrupted."_

_"That would be unlikely, Princess. If all four alpha processors fail, my backup systems would take over." Leia blinked as Threepio began to move towards one of the back rooms. _Maybe all that extra hardware is why he's such a fussbudget_. "I'll see you in the morning, your highness. Sleep well."_

Not likely_. "Good night, Threepio."_

_The door hissed shut behind the protocol droid, and Leia turned back to the viewport. The view looked no different, but she knew that they were still drawing closer to Coruscant with every passing moment. She found herself shivering._

_Behind her, the door hissed back open and she sighed a little in exasperation as she turned around. "Threepio, I'm fine, really. I don't need anything else tonight."_

_"Then the protocol droid has been sufficing?" Emperor Palpatine asked as he stepped over the threshold of her door. In her horror Leia could only stare at him for a moment. She had seen him before, of course, but never face-to-face – his visits to the Senate had been rare and far between. She had never been able to make out much of his features. Now, although the black hood of his cloak hid much of his face in shadow, at this distance she could see far too much. Leia he was finding it hard to believe that Emperor Palpatine had been born human – whatever had been human about him was lost in time. Now there was only the corpse-gray flesh that hung in folds on his face…the gnarled hands and fingers that had been cruelly twisted by something worse than age… and his eyes…his _eyes_…_

Merciful gods, what's wrong with his _eyes_?

_"The droid is a poor excuse for a lady's maid, I realize, but our options are limited on board a battle station – even one as grand as this," Palpatine said when she had not answered him after a long moment of stunned silence. "I hope the rooms are to your liking, at least. I imagine they're much more comfortable than the medical bay."_

_Leia had been a very accomplished politician, and as such had learned the art of discourse under duress well. Fear did not silence her tongue, nor did it dull her sharp wit. In the Imperial Senate, that skill had served her well, and now it did so again.Even though she had broken out in a cold sweat and her heart was beating madly in her ears, when she spoke her voice was as composed as ever._

_"Very comfortable, my lord," she said dryly. "It's a beautiful prison. I can see you've upgraded the cellblock since I was here last." She let her eyes widen in false innocence. "Oh, excuse me. _That_ station was destroyed, wasn't it?"_

_The Emperor merely smiled at her. The expression made her flesh crawl. "There's no need to be snide, princess. Had we known your true identity at that time, you would have been treated quite differently, let me assure you. As the daughter of Anakin Skywalker, you are of utmost importance to Lord Vader…and to me."_

He knows,_ Leia thought, and then immediately,_ how does he know? Luke…

_She didn't let herself think it. "I may be Anakin Skywalker's biological child, your highness, but I claim no ties to Darth Vader – or to you."_

_Emperor Palpatine rasped a laugh. "You show remarkable courage, princess – much like your father did. They called him 'the Hero without Fear,' and I can see his brave spirit in the young woman before me. Padme would have been proud."_

_"My father, Bail Organa, had more courage than any man I've ever known," Leia said deliberately. "Whoever Padme was, she would have to give credit to him."_

_"You mean you don't…oh, my," the Emperor's face fell in a caricature of sympathy. Leia continued to meet his eyes steadily, ignoring the almost overwhelming revulsion their gaze prompted. "Of course you don't know. You've only just found your true father. Padme – that is, Padme Naberrie Amidala, former Queen of Naboo and respected member of the Galactic Senate – my dear, Padme was your mother."_

_Despite herself, Leia's breath caught in her throat. _My mother…

_It was common knowledge that she was adopted, but the only thing she had ever been told about her birth parents was that they had been casualties of the Clone Wars. Countless children had been orphaned during the years of bloody battle, and she had accepted early on in life that it was unlikely she would ever learn who her birth parents were. She had never felt deprived – her adoptive parents had given her all the love any child could ever need. She had known from a young age that she had been more fortunate than most. So many other children had simply slipped through the cracks of the war's aftermath, becoming living ghosts without family, home, or histories to define them._

_Leia had only one memory that tied her to her birth parents. The image of a beautiful woman had haunted her dreams for most of her childhood, but the sad dream-woman had never frightened her. She had always brought a warm, safe feeling with her, though something about her eyes had made the child Leia want to comfort her.Even at the tender age of five Leia could see the sorrow the dream-woman had carried in those eyes._

_"Why do you think she looks so sad?" she had asked her father gravely one night, speaking slowly – a technique the five-year-old Leia had been taught to help overcome her lisp. "Did somebody hurt her?"_

_Bail Organa had just looked at her strangely. "Does she frighten you, Leia?"_

_"No! She's not scary, daddy. She's…she's…she's _good." _Leia struggled to explain to her father, her child's mind unable to put words to the image in her mind. "She's kind, and she's beautiful, and she loves me. But she's still sad. Why?"_

_"Maybe she's sad because she can only see you in your dreams," her father had said. "Maybe she's sad because she can't be here for you."_

_Leia had looked at him with eyes too serious to belong to a five-year-old girl. "Daddy, do you think she could be my real mother?"_

_The young Leia had been sitting in her father's lap during this exchange, and when she asked that question he had hugged her tightly. "It's possible, Leia. Anything is possible."_

_A long moment had passed. _

_"I don't think she's just a reg'lar dream, daddy," Leia had finally said. "I think she's part of a _remember_-dream."_

_Bail Organa had kissed her forehead gently. "I think you might be right, princess. Hold that memory. Don't let it go. Your birth parents created the most wonderful thing in this galaxy – my little girl. I'm sure they were heroes, and deserve to be remembered."_

_Leia had only learned of her ties to Darth Vader days ago – and she had spent the every moment since then trying _not_ to remember. It was only now, for the first time, that this question blazed in her mind:_

What kind of a woman marries a monster?

_"You are very like Padme, your highness," Palpatine said, and it was only then that Leia realized she had once again lost track of how long she had fallen into silence. "You certainly have her beauty and intelligence. She was one of the youngest queens ever elected on Naboo, did you know that?"_

_Leia answered through numb lips. "No."_

_"Its true. They even tried to amend the constitution so that she could stay in office once her term had expired. She was fiercely loyal to the Republic, but in the end she completed her term as Queen and became a Senator." Palpatine's strange eyes had gone far away in remembrance. "I think she realized that the real power was on Coruscant all along, and knew she could better serve the Republic there. She had such conviction! She loved her people, and would have done anything for them…though I do believe she would sometimes push herself too far. I know I wasn't the only one who worried about her…"_

_Leia couldn't seem to find her voice, feeling compelled to listen with a sick fascination. _How does he seem to know her so well?

_And then again, _what kind of woman marries a monster?

"_Yes, you are very like her, princess," Palpatine repeated. "The youngest individual ever appointed to the Imperial Senate…possessed of a brilliant political mind and a fierce idealism…I have no doubt that Padme would have been very proud of you." Those unsettling eyes returned to the present and met hers. "I admired your mother very much, and was honored she chose me to advise her during her term as queen. Padme was more than a political ally, she was a daughter and a friend."_

_Leia was starting to feel nauseous. "I grew up as a princess in the Royal House of Alderaan and an Organa. That is my family. I don't know these people you speak of."_

_"Of course not," the Emperor agreed congenially, "but you carry your father's birthright in your blood, and that legacy cannot be denied, princess. Your brother has become quite powerful already, and he has the potential for so much more…" the sickly yellow light in his eyes was extinguished as he closed them, breathing in deeply. He made no move towards her, but inexplicably Leia suddenly felt violated. "Oh, yes, princess…the Force is strong with you. Your brother is not the only one who will shake the foundations of the galaxy…you will make the very stars tremble."_

_"I…"Leia hated the stammer she heard in her voice, and called upon every bit of training she had to quash it. "I know nothing of the Force, but Luke is the last of the Jedi. I have no doubt he will do great things."_

_"The Jedi are extinct, my dear," Palpatine said mildly, "but I agree with you – your brother will do great things."_

_Leia's eyes narrowed. "If you're trying to frighten me, my lord, it won't work. I know what you're hinting at, but I don't believe it. I won't!"_

_A slow smile curved Palpatine's withered lips. "It is good to see the fire of your father's passion burns in you as well, Leia, perhaps even stronger than with your brother. It will serve you well when we begin our lessons together. You will need that passion to master the Dark side of the Force."_

_"Never," Leia said in a soft and dangerous voice. She barely noticed her hands had curled into fists. She would _not_ allow this hateful creature to twist her mind. Palpatine was the greatest weaver of lies the galaxy had ever known, deftly spinning truth and fiction together until you could not tell where one ended and the other began. Every poisoned word that fell from his lips was suspect._

_He was the father of deceit, and she despised him. "I will die before I join you, and so would Luke."_

"_Really…" the wizened man nodded slowly before turning away, the door hissing open as he approached it. In the doorway he paused. "Perhaps you should discuss it with him tonight. I believe he is planning on visiting you. You are your father's daughter, and as such have great courage within you…but do you have the courage to ask that one simple question? Do you have the courage to ask if he has _chosen_ to learn the Dark side of the Force?"_

_Leia didn't answer him as the door slid shut behind him. She _couldn't _answer him. She didn't want to hear that answer herself._

_Because she _didn't_ think she had the courage to ask Luke._

_And that frightened her most of all._

**OoooOoooO**

**_On the Falcon: One year after the Battle of Endor_**

"Should I be frightened by the fact that my lightsaber is being built with a fork?"

The small smile Anakin gave Leia didn't reassure her. "No, of course not."

"Anakin." Leia picked up a suspiciously shaped three-pronged piece of metal and looked at him doubtfully. "This is an eating utensil.A _fork_."

"Yes, it is." Anakin slid a black metallic ring over the white-silver cylinder in his hand, and then calmly took the utensil out of Leia's hand. "It is a fork."

"Why will my lightsaber need a fork?" Leia asked skeptically. "Am I going to be eating lunch with it?"

The brief look Anakin gave her told her that he wasn't even going to dignify that with an answer. She shrugged. "It's no worse than the rest of the stuff you have out here. I looks like you have bit of every electronic device on this ship."

"Hardly. I just scavenged for what spare parts I could find on board," Anakin took the fork and slid the very tip of one tine into a tiny hole on the base. There was a nearly inaudible _click,_ and he smiled. "You'd be surprised at what you can cobble together from spare parts. Droids, blasters, lightsabers…in the end, they're all just spare parts."

Leia thought with some amusement that she wasn't really as surprised as Anakin might have thought. The Rebellion's techs, and Han in particular, had gotten quite good at 'cobbling' over the years. "Are the 'spare parts' you found going to be enough?"

"Yes," Anakin said, critically eyeing the cylinder in his hand before placing it in the gray woven pouch in front of him. He handed it to her. "All you need is a focusing crystal. The rest is in there – the cylinder housing, the power cell, and the crystal's brackets."

"I thought I needed to construct it myself," Leia said, taking the pouch and putting it down beside her. "You've already done most of the work."

"Not really," Anakin shook his head. "The part of building a lightsaber that is important has to do with the crystal – that's what's in tune with the Force. The union of the individual pieces is part of the journey, as is the first time the lightsaber is ignited – but the Force doesn't care if I created a power cell from the nuclear matter of Ilum's star itself or just bought one at a Tatooine junkyard."

"Oh," Leia said. "I guess it just seems…well, too easy this way."

"Don't worry, Leia, when this is all over, I'm sure 'easy' won't be the word you use to describe this particular trial." Anakin held out the fork, and she took it. "I can virtually promise that."

Leia turned to the shelf behind her, dropping the fork in its drawer beneath a stack of durasteel dinner plates before turning back. "You keep talking about the construction as if it's some sort of 'journey' or 'trial' of its own. Maybe I wouldn't be so worried about it if -"

Anakin was shaking his head even before she finished talking. "I don't know what will happen, Leia. You may have visions…or premonitions. You might even awaken some latent power in you, some sort of innate ability sparked by intense communion with the Force - Master Ki-Adi-Mundi used to call it receiving a 'spirit-gift from the Force.' Then again, you might just find a pretty rock and learn the fine art of gem bracketing. It's different for everyone."

"What happened during yours?" Leia asked without thinking. "I mean, when you were still a Jedi apprentice?"

Leia didn't know why, but she could suddenly sense deep wells of unease inside Anakin.

"I can't remember," he answered her softly.

Leia frowned. "You can't remember? You came out of it with your own lightsaber, right? Surely you remember _something_."

"No," Anakin shook his head. "I remember absolutely nothing. That always bothered me. I mean, why would the Force erase the memory of something that was supposed to have been a rite of passage for the Jedi?"

"I don't know," Leia said. "Why would it? That doesn't make any sense."

"It didn't to me, either." Anakin laughed quietly. "Which is why it happened, according to Obi-Wan. He told me the Force might have done so just to teach me that sometimes things _don't_ make any sense. To teach me that sometimes the Force _itself_ won't make any sense – at least, not to us mere mortals."

Leia smiled sourly. "I don't think I would have been happy with that answer."

"Believe me, I wasn't. I didn't have another one, though, at the time. Now…" Anakin breathed in deeply, "well, now I think it must have had something to do with my future turn to the Dark side. Which is why I have to admit I'm a little nervous about arriving at Rakaell. My first crystal quest did not go well."

"Well, at least we're doing this for my lightsaber, not yours – and believe me, I'm glad you'll be there to help with the technical details. I'm not exactly an engineer." Leia smiled, trying to bring a bit of lightness back into their conversation. "I mean, if even with the Skywalker Home Lightsaber Kit I _still_ can't get the blasted thing put together, I can just ask you for help."

"No…you can't," Anakin said slowly. "We both will be tested by the Force on Rakaell. I won't be able to help you once we're there."

"What?" Leia asked, startled.

"One of the reasons we've been neglecting your swordsmanship is because my lightsaber is spinning through space halfway across the galaxy. You were right – too many innocents had died by its blade. It was just another piece of Darth Vader, and keeping it meant I was willing to let a little bit of Vader still live inside me…and I _wasn't_ willing to do that. I don't think it's coincidence that Rakaell is entering a complete solar eclipse…I think this is a chance not just for you to learn what it is to be a Jedi…but also for me to remember it." Anakin looked at her with an apology in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Leia, I really want to help you, but this might be my only chance –"

"It's all right," Leia said softly. That had been the night the ice had first begun to thaw between them. She hadn't known her words had affected him quite so much. "I understand."

"I know it's not entirely fair to you, but-"

"It's all right, Anakin."

"I really believe it's important for me to-"

"Please, father!"

Anakin stopped mid-word, his face freezing in shock. Leia felt nearly as surprised as he seemed to be. _Father. _The word had just slipped out.

_My father's name was Bail Organa of the Royal House of Alderaan. This is the man that murdered him._

"It's all right," she repeated again, trying to quiet the dark voice in her head._That was Vader. Not Anakin._" I understand."

"I…"Anakin started, but then simply gave her a small smile. "Thank you, Leia."

"I've got a pretty wide independent streak, anyways," Leia said lightly, her tone deliberately chosen to help put the awkward moment behind them. "Most likely I'd argue with you about half the things you'd try to help me with, and ignore you about the rest. I'll be fine."

"I know you will," Anakin said, nodding, "I'm -"

_(in danger)_

Reflexively Leia called the Force to her as his words broke off, her aura suddenly pulsing with its power as quickly as Anakin's own did. They stood in fluid concert, and the dissonant note that still echoed throughout the Force twanged again-

-with the sound of Han Solo's voice.

"Get away from my wife."

Leia looked at him in the doorway through eyes that were focused from within the Force. She saw the tense set of his muscles, the cold accusation in his eyes, how his feet were spread slightly in a defensive stance…and the blaster he held in his hand. His anger shimmered as if the air around him was distorted by its heat.

But this was _Han,_ and she dismissed the Force despite the fact that she could still feel the pulsing of the danger-sense in the air. He was her _husband_. "Han, what in the galaxy do you think you are doing?"

"I said, get away from her." Han stood in the entrance to the common cabin, and raised the blaster at Anakin. His face was tight but his hand very steady. "I'm not going to tell you again."

**"**Stop it, Han!" Leia said sharply. She tried to ignore the urge to wrap herself in the protective aura of the Force again. This was _Han._

Her husband ignored her.

"Captain Solo, I'd like to know what this is all about, please," Anakin said quietly. He kept his hands planted firmly on the table – Han might not have actually said to keep his hands in plain sight, but Leia had heard the unspoken words as clearly as Anakin obviously had. "Have I done something to offend you?"

"Offend me?" Han laughed, a sound that was rough as sandstone. He walked closer to them, holding up a datapadd in one hand. "How about sending coded messages to the Imperials - how's that for starters?"

"Han, that's ridiculous!" snapped Leia, meeting her husband in the middle of the room, almost in defiance of the warning the Force still trembled with. She found the datapadd being thrust into her hand as she reached him, and looked down at it in confusion. "What's this?"

"Read it."

"Which one?" Leia looked at the datapadd, then back at her husband. "The message from Lando?"

"No, the other one."

Leia opened the message and read through its short contents quickly. "Han, this doesn't make any sense. It's complete gibberish! _'The Trojan is riding a bird of prey?_' What in the galaxy is a 'Trojan?' It sounds like some kind of space-weevil. And who is Sirius…or Capricorn, for that matter?"

"It's saying that we have a traitor on board, Leia." Han kept the blaster trained steadily on Anakin. "And whoever it is has sent the Empire the coordinates for Vegalles."

"What?" No matter which way Leia read the words in front of her, she could not see how Han could have gotten that from the message. "What, is this in some sort of code?"

"Yes!"

Leia froze. She narrowed her eyes as understanding began dawning in them. He really thought he had information proving Anakin to be a traitor. That explained the danger sense, but not why he trusted that information enough to have caused it. "Han, who is Capricorn?"

"That's not important, Leia-"

"Not important?" Leia's voice climbed a notch despite the fact that she was trying to stay calm. "You're standing there holding a blaster to my father's face, obviously thinking he's been sending the Empire covert information, ready to kill him all on the word of some contact I've never even _heard_ of, and _it's not important!"_

"Leia-"

"Han, this has got to stop!" Leia stepped in front of him, blocking Anakin, and Han lowered the blaster so fast Leia almost thought he had dropped it. "Anakin has done everything he can to prove he's no threat to us, and you've done nothing but accuse him and attack him at every turn."

"That's not true!"

"It's not?" Leia's eyebrow rose sharply. "I'm not stupid, Han. Tell me – if I checked the security logs for the night the Emperor died, would I find out that Anakin's split lip was caused by him 'running into' your fist?"

"I-"

"And since when do you hide contacts from me?" Leia asked without pause. "You obviously put a lot of stock in this 'Capricorn's' information – when did you stop trusting _me_ with that information?"

Han stared at her, his eyes guarded and hurt. "Leia, when did _you_ stop trusting _me?"_

Leia blinked. "What?"

"I don't like Anakin, you're right, and I don't trust him…but I've been doing everything you ask me to do. Lie to the leaders of the Alliance? All right. Take my ship into a deadly solar storm so you can go on some insane Jedi quest? Why not? Watch the woman I love risk her soul every day with a man who brutally tortured me – and _you_, Leia, if you can't remember – _sure_, _no goddamned problem!"_

All Leia could do was stare at him as his words tumbled from his mouth unabated.

"And do you know _why_ I've done all those things?" There was anger in Han's voice, but it couldn't hide the pain underlying it. "Because I _do_ trust you! I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Capricorn. I was trying to protect you, but _I_ don't even know much about him. Mostly he's just a goddamned mystery and has been a pain in my ass for more than a year. But I _do_ have reason to trust him, and that means that someone on the _Falcon_ sent the Imperials the location of the Rebel base. The list of suspects seems pretty slim, Leia, and whether or not you like it, _his_ name is at the top of the list."

A loud metallic clatter kept Leia from responding, and she had been so focused on Han that she jumped at the intrusion. The look of three human heads turning in an almost choreographed swivel would have been comical if it weren't for the deadly seriousness of the room.

"Dena?" Leia asked in surprise, even as she heard Han speak.

"Chewie?"

"Han, it wasn't him," Dena said, and Leia realized the noise that had startled her had been Chewbacca dropping the limp shell of C-3PO onto the floor of the common cabin. The droid's eyes were ominously dark. "Master Skywalker didn't send any messages to the Imperials."

"What?" Leia asked. "Dena, how do you _know_ that?"

The Twi'lek's gaze traveled up to Chewie, glanced down at Threepio, and then finally settled on Leia apologetically. "There's no real easy way to say this…"

"Say _what_?" Leia's voice was sharp. Beside her, Anakin was staring at the lifeless protocol droid on the floor and shaking his head slowly.

"I should have known," he said, sounding disgusted with himself.

"Should have known _what?"_ Leia asked.

Anakinlooked at her and smiled without humor. "The biggest problem with traitors, Leia, is that the closer you are to them, the harder they are to see."

Dena nodded.

"Honestly," she said, "most people never even think to look."

**End of Part 16 **

_A note on the scene in this part between Leia and Palpatine: I was trying to bring the two personalities of Palpatine together...the urbane and cultured Chancellor with the warped and evil Emperor. I wanted to bring his character from the new trilogy into the Emperor we all know and love to hate from the old trilogy. I hope I succeeded, at least in some small way._

Okay, let me know if anyone's still out there…and whether you're still enjoying this story…(I'm still writing…and while I can't see the future, I really hope to have succeeding updates posted in much less time…)

Thanks for reading!

Pyxelle


	17. Chapter 17

**Sorry for the wait, everyone. Shorter than usual, for me at least, but I started working on this weirdly. I've been writing like crazy, but I've been writing the lightsaber journeys for Anakin and Leia (which are several chapters away) I had a burst of inspiration for them, so just went with it. Bad news, these chapters were delayed. Good news, several chapters later on with hit very quickly 'cause they're already done.**

**My muse likes to toy with my brain.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**OoooOoooO**

**The Souls of Demons**

**Chapter 17**

**_By Pyxelle_**

**OoooOoooO**

_**On the Deathstar: present day**_

The crewman stammered during most of his explanation, but that didn't really trouble Darth Eivel. He was young, and Eivel had become accustomed to a certain amount of fear from the Deathstar's crew. The fact that the crewman hadn't made the slightest eye contact was not surprising, either. Very few ever did. So the young man's darting eyes didn't really bother him.

The fact that Captain Vesra still hadn't met his gaze _did_.

Darth Eivel hadn't really realized how comfortable he had become with Doran Vesra until he had met him outside the Emperor's former chambers. Vesra had saluted and greeted him as he always did, but when their eyes had met a spark of panic sizzled off of the captain and he had turned quickly away. His voice remained steady, and his manner was as brisk and professional as always – Eivel probably wouldn't even have noticed the difference if it hadn't been for that brief flash of panic Vesra had shot into the Force. But because of it Eivel was acutely aware of the way each time their gazes met the captain's eyes would skitter away like a drop of water on a hot griddle, and it surprised him a bit just how much that bothered him.

The young crewman, however, barely seemed able to lift his head at all. His attention was riveted on the console in front of him, and he kept running his fingers through his already tousled wheat-blonde hair nervously. He detailed the message in a rushed voice, as if he was trying to have the entire report fall out of his mouth in a single breath.

Something the crewman said made Darth Eivel frown.

"Excuse me – what was that again?" he asked. "What do you mean, there might not even _be_ a spy?"

"Umm, well, you see, the reports are too neat," the young man explained quickly, the words tripping over each other in their race to leave his lips. "There aren't very many of them to compare, but the ones we do have all follow an identical format."

"That's not surprising. Emperor Palpatine was adamant about thoroughness."

"Yes, my lord, but these aren't just thorough. Apart from the information, they're _absolutely identical._" The crewman glanced up, but his eyes immediately recoiled when they touched Darth Eivel's face. Eivel tried to ignore it. "Uh…I think, I mean, _we_ think it might be a computer program generating these reports. If that's the case, it could be completely automated."

"The program could even be installed on the main computer of the _Millennium Falcon_ itself, my lord," Vesra said. "It could be hidden deeply in the communication subroutines, generating its reports and then piggybacking them onto the _Falcon's_ own comm traffic."

"You said there were only three of these reports, right?" Darth Eivel's brow furrowed. "If this program _is_ 'piggybacking' them on the _Falcon's_ communications, wouldn't there be a lot more of them?"

"Not necessarily," Vesra disagreed. "The program could be sending only the information its parameters determine to be pertinent."

"And in over a year, this program only had three reports with 'pertinent' information?" Eivel shook his head. "I don't know, Captain. Considering the exhaustive detail I'm seeing, that doesn't make a whole lot of sense."

"But it is a possibility."

"Yes, I suppose it is – but you're forgetting one thing." Darth Eivel smiled thinly. "I know Han, and there is no way he would have missed an invasive computer program for more than a year. The only thing he loves more than that ship is Leia."

"That is something you would know much better than I, my lord."

"Yes, it is," Darth Eivel sighed. "But I agree the reports are too neat. They almost certainly are being generated by a computer program, but I still think there must be someone actually sending them – someone who has the technical knowledge to get it past Han's safeguards and the acting ability to fool Leia."

Briefly Eivel remememberd his own computer being hacked into, and he made a mental note to check his logs when they were done here. He hadn't yet found the time to follow up on the possible intrusion into his files.

But now he needed to stay focused. If the Emperor had a spy on board the _Falcon, _virtually anyone was suspect…because none of them would have been suspect otherwise. Even though he was cold and dead, the Emperor's fingers were still twitching their puppet-strings. Palpatine's strength _and_ his weakness had been that eerie ability to execute plans that took years to play out, and his mind had been very strong. The traitor might not even know they were betraying the Alliance. It could be Chewie…or Dena…or Han…or even Leia.

It could even be Anakin…or more accurately, Darth Vader.

Treachery was the way of the Dark Side, after all.

But as much as he would have liked to pin one more sin on his father's head, the fact was that Anakin was actually the _least_ likely suspect. He hadn't been on the _Falcon_ when the first report had arrived just over a year ago. "While it's interesting to know the reports aren't personal in nature, it doesn't really help us, does it?"

"No, my lord, I'm afraid it doesn't," Vesra shook his head. "We are attempting to trace the transmission, but since we don't know how long ago it was sent, it's unlikely the information will be-"

"What was that?" Eivel asked sharply.

"My lord?" Vesra's face was baffled.

"Not you, Captain." Eivel's eyes bored into the young blond crewman who had been staring very hard at his console for the past few minutes. He had muttered something under his breath, so quietly Eivel had almost missed it. "You. What was that?"

"Nothing, my lord," the crewman said in a voice little more than a whisper.

"Something about A.I.," Eivel said, frowning.

"A theory we dismissed earlier, Lord Eivel," Vesra explained, casting a hard look at the crewman. "About the possibility of an A.I. kernel being built into the program – giving it the ability to make intelligent choices instead of just triggering a response."

"I can see why you dismissed it," Darth Eivel said. "Even the most basic of A.I.'s require a massive amount of processing power. That sort of drain on the _Falcon's_ computer would be like sending up a red flag."

"Exactly, my lord," agreed his executive officer. "Captain Solo or the Wookiee would have noticed it immediately."

"Not if it wasn't installed on the _Falcon's_ computer!" the crewman retorted hotly, as if he had already been through this argument several times. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he gasped. He looked at Darth Eivel with a frantic apology in his eyes. "I'm sorry…I mean, forgive my impertinence, my lord. I overstepped-"

"Don't worry about it." Eivel allowed his voice to become gentle. He could clearly see the young man's confusion at his manner, but the crewman's fluttering fear had quieted. That soothed Eivel a bit – after all, it would make speaking with him much easier if the young man's tongue wasn't tangled by fear. "What's your name, crewman?"

"My name?"

"Yes, your name," Eivel said, smiling a little. "I'm guessing your given name isn't 'crewman' – if it is, you have my most sincere sympathies."

The young blond man just stared at him, and Eivel's smile suddenly became a touch more genuine. The crewman hadn't completely lost that flutter of fear, but he was _staring_ at Darth Eivel, and his eyes didn't flinch away. That made Darth Eivel feel inordinately better.

"I can find it myself, you know," he reminded him after a few more seconds. "But I'd much prefer you give it to me willingly."

The other man blinked repeatedly. "Of course, my lord!"

Another moment passed.

"Well…?" Eivel prompted again.

"Oh! Bren, my lord," the crewman stammered, blushing deeply. A dark pink embarrassment colored his emotions. "Um, what I mean is, uh…" he took in a sharp breath and snapped his heels together as he saluted, his back going ramrod straight. "Aubren Detlas, Crewman Fourth Class, Communications and Encryptions. Official assignment to the Star Destroyer _Annihilator,_ currently assigned as emergency personnel on the Deathstar. Technical clearance D405, Security clearance code, alpha-omega 34."

"Well, that certainly sounds impressive," Darth Eivel said mildly, "but I lost you after 'Aubren Detlas.' Could I have the short version?"

Crewman Aubren Detlas – Bren, Eivel reminded himself – gaped at him. From his side, Eivel could feel a similar surprise from Captain Vesra, but his was overlaid by a stark gray worry.

Bren's mouth opened and closed like a fish several times before answering. "Uh, I work on the _Annihilator_, my lord, but I've been temporarily assigned to this project."

"Because you work in the communications department, I take it."

"Partially, Lord Eivel, but also because I have a background in encryptions," Bren shrugged modestly. "I guess you could say I've got a knack for them."

"Crewman Detlas was the one who deciphered the original message, my lord," Vesra offered.

"Really?" Eivel inclined his head slightly. "Good work, Bren."

"Um, thank you?" Bren said, obviously still baffled. He didn't seem to know how to answer a compliment from the Sith.

"You're welcome," Eivel said. "Now, Bren, why don't you tell me what your theory is?"

Though it hadn't been what the crewman was expecting, obviously, Eivel's congenial manner had clearly begun to set the programmer at ease to some degree. He began speaking nervously, but as he continued the stammer in his voice started to smooth out.

"Well, my lord, it's true an A.I. kernel would eat up a lot of resources on a ship's computer," Bren explained. "It's circuits aren't designed to transmit fuzzy data – that is, trinary data – and its processors would have to work overtime just to keep up with the A.I.'s basic functions."

"Which is why we dismissed it, crewman," Vesra reminded him coldly.

"I know, sir," allowed the young man, "but a droid's computer core processors, its circuits, and its memory are all specifically built to handle an A.I."

"So you're suggesting this 'spy program' is an A.I. built into one of their droids?" Eivel asked.

"It's possible, Lord Eivel."

"But very unlikely, Detlas," Captain Vesra sighed. "Although a droid's system is built to handle a trinary program, it has limited resources itself. A new A.I. kernel would completely alter the droid's original personality – and Lord Eivel himself has said that the droids aboard the _Millennium Falcon_ have sentimental value to its crew – they aren't routinely memory-wiped and reprogrammed. It would be completely ineffective as a spy."

"Not if the new A.I. kernel didn't overwrite the original one," Bren shot back. "If it was small enough, it could be run by the secondary processing unit. The original A.I. would still be run normally by the primary processor, keeping the original personality fully intact."

"And the second A.I. would only trigger under specific conditions – such as communications equipment availability and proximity to Imperial recievers," Eivel said slowly, an idea taking shape in his mind. "The rest of the time it would simply rest in resident memory, hiding itself from the droid by masquerading as it's redundant systems."

"Exactly!" Bren said, a quick and easy grin lighting on his face. He seemed caught up to the point that he almost seemed as if he forgotten who exactly he was talking to. "The droid would be kinda like one of those crazies who has a bunch of different people in their heads."

"Multiple personalities," Darth Eivel clarified in a quiet voice.

"Yeah!" Bren's grin had spread wide. "Multiple personalities – well, dual personalities, I guess would be a better way to put it. It would be the perfect spy. No one would suspect it. Even the droid wouldn't know."

"It would the first time its systems tried to access the backup and found them missing. Something like that could corrupt the whole memory," Vesra pointed out. "And you seem to be forgetting the extraordinary complexity of a program like that. Creating artificial intelligence isn't like encrypting a communication signal or bypassing security protocols, crewman. You're talking about a kernel that not only is a 'submissive' personality, for lack of a better term, but also is _aware of its own nature_."

"A lot of droids are self-aware, Captain," Bren reminded the Imperial officer.

"Yes, to a degree," Vesra was as close to being exasperated as Darth Eivel had ever seen him. "But I can assure you, none of them are being run by a scaled-down program cycled through a secondary processor."

"But-"

"What if resources weren't a problem?" Darth Eivel interrupted them suddenly. "Could an A.I. program be written that would function alongside another one like that?"

"Sure it could," Bren insisted.

"It would still be quite difficult, and any hardware alterations would be noticeable as well, crewman-"

"Captain, C-3PO has not one, not two, but three primary sub processors, and a separate redundancy system," Eivel said quietly. He remembered looking at the strange workings inside the protocol droid for the first time and wondering whether all protocol droids were built that way, but when his uncle Lars had first bought Threepio Luke hadn't ever seen inside another protocol droid. By the time he had learned differently, it hadn't seemed important. "He is already built with more than enough extra hardware."

Vesra looked at him with eyes that widened. "You never mentioned that to me before, my lord."

"It never seemed important before. It does now." Eivel turned back to the crewman. "So with that sort of extra hardware, could it work?"

"With all that hardware, it would be _easy_!" Bren said, then bit his lip. "Well, maybe not _easy,_ but definitely doable. Hoth frost, _Rea_ could do it!"

Darth Eivel looked at him sharply. "Rea?"

Aubren Detlas, Crewman Fourth Class, finally seemed to realize that in his excitement he had spent the last few minutes babbling to the Imperial Regent and his executive officer. The open warmth on his face vanished, and he went white. "Uh, Onorea Detlas, my lord. My sister."

"That would be Lieutenant Onorea Detlas, my lord," Vesra told him quietly. "She's currently assigned to the Imperial Hangar."

_Onorea Detlas…Rea…why did that name sound so familiar?_ For some reason, it sparked some sort of memory, an older memory…from when he first arrived…

(_Onorea Detlas, Rea to my friends)_

"She's also on the list I'm preparing for you," Vesra continued in a voice soft enough not to reach Bren's ears.

_(You can call me Rea)_

"List?'

"Of potential officers, my lord," clarified Vesra.

As if those words were an actor's cue to enter stage left, in the corner of his vision Eivel suddenly saw a large figure storming at him from the entrance. He turned casually, letting his gaze find the newcomer with a calm stare.

"_How dare you?"_ General Torren had dispensed with any pretense to being a proper Imperial officer. His voice was loud and harsh and his face was nearly crimson with anger. "_How dare you exile me off like this?"_

"Exile?" Eivel asked calmly. "I only recall a new assignment being given to you, general. I certainly don't remember condemning you to exile."

"That's exactly what this is and you know it!" Torren's glare was filled with hatred, and Eivel let his answering emotion open his mind to the Dark side as the raging general continued on. "The Graendal system is light-years away from anything remotely resembling civilization, and there is no reason to have a permanent Imperial presence on some back-planet tribal world. There's nothing there for the Empire!"

"I have reason to believe otherwise," Eivel said in that same serene voice, though the Dark side thundered inside his head. "As would you, if you had thoroughly read your orders. There has been evidence that the mineral deposits on that world could be fairly valuable to the Empire."

"Then send a blasted mining team! Vader's Elite Forces-"

"Do not exist anymore, General Torren," Eivel said, his voice diamond hard. "In fact, _Darth Vader _no longer exists at all. I am Regent now."

"Regent, indeed," snarled the general. "But you do not possess the Empire. You're merely a caretaker."

"Am I." It was a statement.

"I have been a loyal member of the Empire for most of my life. My life has _been_ the Empire!" A vein in Torren's forehead pulsed with the beat of his anger. "I have given the Empire twenty years. Now _you_ consider me a threat, and I'm being disposed of. _I will not stand for it!"_

"You go too far," Eivel said, a dangerous note in his voice.

"Darth Vader-"

_"_Is_ **dead**!" _Without thinking about it, Eivel's hands thrust out and sizzling arc of blue-white lightning shot from his fingertips. The energy struck General Torren, and the large man 's face contorted in pain as he was lifted several inches off the ground. Eivel held him there for a moment, satisfaction filling him as at last he felt fear in Torren. It was time the presumptuous general learned just who had the power here. He released him after a few seconds, the crackling blue light dancing over the tips of his fingers for just a moment longer.

"Your loyalty to the Empire seems less than sincere to me, general," Eivel said, watching Torren collapse to the ground with a resounding _thud._ "In fact, you seem to be walking a line that seems frighteningly close to treason."

Torren glared up at him from the floor, but Eivel could still sense his sudden fear. The anger inside the general, however, was stronger, and when Chronis Torren spoke his voice was raspy but undeniably contemptuous. "Bastard."

"I've heard that one before, general. 'Vader's bastard.'" Eivel gave him a casual grin that didn't touch the coldness of his eyes. "Actually, though, my parents were married. I'm perfectly legitimate."

The general screamed hoarsely in pain as Eivel wove the Force around him again, not with lightning this time but with his own special ability to seek out nerve endings and make them shoot excruciating blaster-bolt messages to the brain. The Emperor had told him once had he been taught by the Jedi, that ability would have made him a powerful healer.

He had yet to find the time to learn those healing powers, but this particular power he had nearly perfected. Eivel released the tendrils of energy torturing his father's former advisor. The terror that had begun to overpower the man's anger was satisfying. He looked around the room sharply.

"The rest of you – _out_." The command in his voice brooked no disobedience, and the room emptied quickly. Darth Eivel stopped Captain Vesra with a hand that shot out and grabbed the man's shoulder as he tried to pass. "Captain, I want you to inform everyone on your preliminary list of their new status immediately. We're going to need them sooner rather than later, I think, and I trust your judgment."

"Yes, sir," Vesra said, his voice wavering the slightest bit. He kept his composure, as if he didn't see the man on the floor gasping for breath.

"I'll be with you as soon as I can. We'll continue our discussion then." Eivel's smile faded. He looked down at General Torren's curled body with empty eyes.

"Right now, I have something I need to 'take care' of," he said quietly.

**End of part 17**

Gonna try and do some reading today, too...but whaddya all think? (BTW, next part is nearly written…really. Really really.)


	18. Chapter 18

Okay, I know I promised this part would be quick and its taken me longer than any other to write.

I have decided that proclaiming a release date for a chapter curses me. I inevitably end up rewriting, or shifting the written scenes to a different chapter, or having my annoying life intrude…so, I'm not gonna give an estimate on the next chapter. Suffice it to say I already have it started.

As to action…yes, I realize the action has slowed a bit…it will pick up again, but I tried to twist and bend this part to get a bit more action in, but it just didn't work…if it's becoming hard to read because of lack of action, let me know…I'm just not sure how to skip these parts and get right to some saber fights or ship battles without leaving out what I feel is important information.

I'm trying, though.

ANYWAYS…I really hope I still have some readers…the response to this story has been phenomenal, and I thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for your responses. I have put a lot of my time and mental energy into this. My only reward is knowing that I am entertaining someone somewhere, so each and every review and every helpful response is cherished.

Thank you!

**The Souls of Demons**

**_By Pyxelle_ **

**Chapter 18 **

**OoooOoooO**

"I hate you, Aubren Detlas. I really, truly, hate you."

Onorea did nothing of the sort, of course, but anyone hearing her voice would have thought the sentiment true. Not that anyone was there to hear, other than the blue and white astro-droid she had retrieved from the repair bays a few days before. It was that droid that inspired the venom in her voice when she spoke about her brother. The damn thing was driving her mad.

The _Nyx_ was nearly finished, but Onorea had spent the past few days working harder on Bren's innocent 'favor' than she had on the ship. Her younger brother had been right – the droid's wires were crossed and criss-crossed so many times that she was amazed the thing ran at all. She'd immediately seen why the droid's data core hadn't simply been cored out – the first time she'd tried to reroute his pathways so that she could access his physical systems the droid had started to display the first indications of imminent cascade failure, and she'd had to abort each attempt within seconds of making it. The innards of the droid were jury rigged in a way that Onorea had never seen before – as if each repair had been done on top of each other, instead of replacing key parts and wiping the droid's memory. Which was not only against service codes, it was silly. It was just a droid. Besides, Imperial regulations required a systems check after each mission, and a mandatory overhaul and re-installation of the artificial intelligence kernel every two years.

This unit was old (Onorea had identified it early on as an R2 unit, R2-D2 being it's exact designation. It had been a discovery that had given her a false sense of confidence before the past few days of frustration) and might not have had an overhaul for decades. The R2 units had been in use for forty-five years, and though they were infrequent to find in Imperial stores anymore, they were still common enough in the Outer Rim planets. But they weren't in the Outer Rim at that moment.

All and all, she was more than a little curious as to where this droid had come from. Wherever it had been certainly wasn't keeping their equipment up to Imperial standards.

"All right, you stubborn little machine, let's try this," Onorea said now, looking down at the screen on her diagnostic pad and activating the droid. The droid whirred into life, and the light on the restraining belt flickered green. She smiled as the system started loading.

"Come on, work," she whispered. The diagnostic screen flickered as it displayed the final booting screens, and the sharp beeping the droid greeted her with as it finished powering up was translated into a scrolling message.

_The odds of surviving carbonite freezing are 725 to 1._

"Damn it!" she snapped, her patience finally lost, and threw the diagnostic screen so that it bounced off the astro-droid with a dull metallic _clank._

The droid whistled. On the floor, the diagnostic screen continued to translate.

_The outer shells of all R2 units are built to withstand over 400 pounds of blunt pressure before showing physical damage. _

"Oh, I'm sure the garbage compressors do way more than that," Onorea told it darkly. It trilled at her in response.

_Imperial garbage systems sometimes have live dianoga infesting them. These parasites have seven tentacles and grow up to ten feet in size, and resemble-_

"I don't _care_!" Onorea shouted, kicking it sharply with one foot before remembering she had taken her shoes off. Pain shot through her injured foot. "Ow!"

The whistle the droid gave her was low-pitched and, incredibly, actually sounded reproachful.

_The human body takes three to six weeks to heal a broken toe unaided._

"Oh, just shut up, all right?" Onorea rubbed her throbbing foot. She _hoped_ she hadn't broken any of her toes. "I'm going to kill Bren for saddling me with you, my lunatic droid friend, believe me, I am. He could have at least _warned_ me about-"

The door to her quarters hissed, and Onorea couldn't help the grimly satisfied smile that crossed her face as Bren entered. Her brother was shaking his head and muttering to himself as he flopped on the chair across from her.

"He's not human, I tell you, Rea, not human at all."

"Hi, Bren," she said, a vicious note in her voice that her brother didn't seem to notice.

"Really, Rea, the man's half-machine, I swear. He has to be. It's the only explanation. Any rational, normal human couldn't act like that. "

"I'm glad you decided to stop by, Bren, really I am. I wanted to talk with you."

Bren still didn't respond. Instead he just stared at her ceiling blankly and continued, only half-addressing her. "He's colder than the poles of Hoth, Rea, just one big machine made of ice, that's all, and –"  
"Bren, could you listen to me for a second?"

"the worst part is that's all he sees us as too, just more little machines that he can order about and program however he wants –"

"Bren, would you please let me talk?"

"until we break down or explode, but it doesn't matter, not as long as the job gets done, because there's always more little machines waiting to go, more little obedient drones, but what I want to know is how I ended up one of those drones, because my official record doesn't have any encryptions studies on it-"

"Bren…."

"-I mean, why would it? Its not like I studied them at the Academy. Breaking into the holonets isn't exactly the glowing recommendation I'd want on my records, and I don't think I ever got caught, but somehow he still knew about that-"

"Bren, shut up!"

"-because he told me it was one of the reasons I was assigned to the project. But you want to know the worst part?"

_"Aubren Detlas!"_

Bren finally looked at her, his eyes wide and baffled. "The worst part is that you actually _like_ the man!"

"_By all the gods of Dagaa, will you please stop talking?_" Onorea's exasperation made her voice shrill and sharp, perfectly reflecting her mood right then. "_I have no idea who you're talking about!"_

"Captain Vesra," Bren said, briefly frowning at her raised voice. "That droid-in-human-clothing you respect so much. After everything that happened in the emperor's chambers, he _still_ is making me finish my shift!"

"What?" Onorea's voice had taken on a dangerously low tone. He was complaining about having to _finish his shift!_

"I'm not even done now, Rea. I'm just on lunch break. Then I'm supposed to go back up-" his words broke off as he ducked, the diagnostic pad she had snatched up and thrown at him only narrowly missing his head. "Hey! Rea! What's your problem?"

"_You_ are my problem, Bren!" Onorea gritted out. "I can't believe you're complaining when you've left half your work to me!"

"What?" Bren looked at her blankly for a moment before they flickered to the droid. He frowned. "Rea, that's not the droid I asked you to fix, is it?"

"No, it's my dinner date," retorted Onorea caustically. "Of course it is, you dolt."

"Why is it in your quarters?"

Onorea ignored the question. "You tricked me, Bren! You didn't tell me that it wasn't Imperial issue!"

"Of course it wasn't Imperial issue. Do you think I'd have such a problem with it if it was Imperial issue?" Bren looked at her quizzically, and then a self-satisfied expression came onto his face. "Wait a moment…don't tell me that the brilliant Onorea Detlas is having a problem with a simple astro-droid?"

"Bren…" Onorea fist rose in the air as if to strike him, and he raised his own arm, warding her off.

"Sorry, sorry!" Bren said quickly. He peeked over his forearm, only lowering it when Onorea retreated. "Did you get _any_ farther than I did?"

"Some," Onorea admitted reluctantly, letting her anger boil down to a slow simmer. "Its designation is R2-D2, but its ident code isn't registered to the Deathstar or to any of the Star Destroyers…actually, I can't find a record of its ident code at all."

"Really?" Bren sat up and looked at the astro-droid with renewed interest. "Hey, Rea…you think it might have belonged to the Rebels?"

"Don't get carried away, Aubren Detlas," she warned him sternly. "That's fairly unlikely, considering it was found wandering around on the Deathstar, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but-"

The door chime interrupted them. Onorea waved Bren to silence as she went to answer the chime.

"Captain Vesra," Onorea said in mild surprise as the doors hissed open to reveal her commanding officer. Behind her, she heard Bren shoot to his feet. "Can I help you?"

"I'm only here to deliver this to you and inform you of your new status," Vesra said formally, handing something over to her. Onorea looked at it only briefly before she raised her eyes up to him in bafflement.

"Captain, this is a commander's insignia," she said dumbly.

"Very observant, Detlas," Vesra replied dryly. "The promotion is effective immediately. Your new orders will be sent to you via intra-station messaging before the day is out."

"But Captain, I was just promoted," Onorea protested. "There must have been some mistake."

"There's no mistake, I assure you. The orders come from Lord Eivel himself."

"Sweet Nanalitu," Bren whispered from behind her, invoking the Dagaan goddess of fortune. "_Se ne tu everuta deaia'va."_

_Good fortune slaps you harder than bad._ Onorea couldn't help but feel the same. "I don't know what to say…thank you, Captain."

"You earned it, Detlas, if only for recommending Aubren for this assignment," Vesra looked over her shoulder at her brother. "He's been invaluable thus far."

"I'm glad to hear that, sir."

Captain Vesra smiled at her thinly. "I have to admit I'm surprised he didn't join the officer core. But perhaps later, I suppose."

"I doubt it," Bren's voice was flat.

Onorea glanced back at him in quick reproach. "I'm sure he'll consider it, sir."

"Please do, Detlas," Vesra said, addressing Bren before turning to leave. "I'll see you shortly, crewman."

His gaze flickered to her. "And congratulations, Commander."

The door slid shut, and Onorea walked dumbly back into the room. _Commander!_

"I can't believe this," she said heavily, dropping in a chair. "Commander? I just can't believe it."

"Me neither," Bren said, and Onorea looked up in surprise at the resentment in his voice. Her brother's eyes were dark with anger and his lips were pressed together into a thin line.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked.

"_You_ recommended me to Captain Vesra?"

"Yes," Onorea said, baffled. "You're one of the best computer programmers that I know, and they needed someone who could decrypt very complicated communications. I thought it would be good for you-"

"_You _thought?" Bren exploded. "Damn it, Rea! Stop messing with my life! I'm perfectly capable of living it all on my own, thank you very much. I don't need you dropping my name to half the officers on the station. I wouldn't be surprised if you told me you volunteered my name to Commander Schenel, too." Onorea lowered her head guiltily and she saw her brother's eyes widen. "You did, didn't you? You did! I wondered why they picked me for repairing that damn droid. I work in communications, not artificial intelligence. That's _your_ specialty."

"I was just trying to help you!" Onorea snapped back, a slight pang of guilt robbing her voice of the intended heat. "Honestly, Bren, don't you ever think about the future? Ever since you were a little boy-"

"When are you going to learn that I'm _not_ a little boy anymore, Rea?" Bren interrupted her. "I'm twenty years old! I don't need your protection anymore – _and_ _I don't want your help! _Did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm happy where I am?"

"Bren-"

"You know what? You can tell Commander Schenel I couldn't complete the overhaul. Its not like you'll get in trouble, at least not now that you're his equal in rank, _Commander."_

Bren stormed over to the door and exited without another word.

Onorea watched the doors as they hissed shut behind him with her mouth hanging open. After a moment she breathed in deep, letting it out again in a long sigh. Damn it, she didn't want to be fighting with Bren right now. Why couldn't he see that she was just trying to help?

Involuntarily, her eyes flickered down to the commander's insignia she held in her hand. For a long moment she simply sat and stared at the small ornament as if she didn't really see it.

"Commander," she finally muttered out loud, shaking her head in disbelief. The title sound alien in her mouth, and the second time made it no better. "Commander Onorea Detlas."

There was a quiet whistle from the astro-droid in the corner. The diagnostic translated.

_Imperial officers reaching the rank of commander are almost exclusively male and have a significantly higher mortality rate than that of enlisted crewmen._

Commander Onorea Detlas just clenched her insignia in her hand and didn't answer.

**OoooOoooO**

_Ensign Onorea Detlas kept her hands tightly clenched around the data disk to keep them from shaking. Despite this, they still trembled very slightly as she took small steps into the bleak gray hall, acutely aware that only a single bulkhead separated her from the Emperor's private chambers. Only one small barrier between her and the rooms kept by the supreme leader of the Empire. In the few short months she had been on the Deathstar, she hadn't come anywhere near them before. The Deathstar was a battle station the size of a moon, after all, and her duties had never led her there. _

_She had sort of hoped they never would._

_The soft sound of her footfalls echoed as she turned the corner onto the Imperial Observation Deck. Onorea stopped dead in her tracks._

_The room was huge, but the massive viewports made it seem even more vast. They stretched upwards for at least fifteen meters and spanned the considerable length of the room. The hollow, empty feeling of the room was only emphasized by the fact that there was no furniture to mar its essential Spartan nature, no chairs or benches on which to rest while looking at the view beyond the transparent barriers._

_And that view was overwhelming. Outside the viewport, a large Star Destroyer dominated, making the scattered husks of the Rebel's last stand almost fade away around it. She was posted to the Artificial Intelligence Laboratory, buried deep inside the station's body, and she had never seen a Star Destroyer from this vantage point before. It was a bit awe-inspiring._

_"Wow," she whispered._

_"Grotesque, isn't it?"_

_Onorea jumped, almost dropping the data disk in her hand._

_The owner of the voice laughed softly, and stepped out of the shadowy corner he had been standing in. Onorea immediately noticed why she had not seen him upon entering. The tailored black pants and high-necked shirt of the same color had allowed him to blend into the inky shadows as if he were made of them. He moved with silent grace to stand beside her, staring out of the window with his hands clasped behind his back. Onorea noticed that one of his hands was encased in a black leather glove, though the other was left bare. That struck some sort of chord in her, but she couldn't quite remember why that slight oddity of dress should do so._

_"Jawa steal your tongue?"_

_It was only then that Onorea realized she had been staring. She blushed. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"_

_"I just asked you what you came here for." The young man smiled slightly and looked pointedly at the data disk in her hand. "Are you delivering a report?"_

_Instinctively, she pulled the disk closer to her. Her orders had been explicit, and though she wasn't entirely sure why she had been chosen for this duty, she knew better than to question it. "Yes. I'm supposed to deliver this to Edin Dairret – one of the Fleet captains, I believe. I don't suppose you're him, are you?"_

_"No, I'm afraid not," the young man said, and Onorea was surprised at the disappointment she felt. "He's on his way, though. You can wait if you like."_

_"Thank you," said Onorea. "Are you one of the Emperor's aides, then?"_

_"Not exactly," he said, shaking his head a bit. "I guess you could say I'm new to the Empire."_

_Onorea nodded. "Me, too. I just arrived three months ago."_

_"I've only been here a few days."_

_Despite the lack of a standard Imperial officer's uniform, Onorea wondered if the young man could be a fresh-out-of-the Academy officer like herself. The Imperial Military Academy was huge, so the fact that she didn't recognize him meant little. He looked about her age, and his hair was obviously freshly cut into the short style favored by the young men of the Empire._

_The conclusion her mind had reached put Onorea a bit more at ease, and she relaxed a little._

_"Don't worry too much," she said comfortingly. "You'll get used to it quickly enough."_

_"Excuse me?" The young man looked surprised. Onorea smiled at him reassuringly._

_"I had an absolutely terrible time the first few weeks here," she told him. "I thought the Academy was bad –big, boring, and bland- but the Deathstar was a hundred times worse. It took all the Academy's worst qualities, magnified them, and then somehow managed to find a few new ones in the process. More than a few people find it's difficult to adjust to the claustrophobia."_

_He blinked at her. Onorea tipped her head towards the viewports._

_"Most of the station is contained internally. No windows." She shuddered slightly. "No matter how big a room is, being enclosed by blank gray walls day in and day out can make you feel a bit trapped."_

_"Trapped," her companion nodded slowly. "I can understand that."_

_"Most new recruits seem to spend a lot of time in one of the junior officers' lounges. The best is Observation Deck B zero…we call it the Black Hole. It's got a decent view – nothing like this, of course. You should stop by some time."_

_"Thank you for the offer," he said, giving her a quizzical glance. "I take it you're a junior officer, then?"_

_"Ensign Onorea Detlas, at your service," Onorea flipped a smart salute that was softened by the smile accompanying it. "Rea to my friends, though."_

_"Nice to meet you, ensign."_

_She smiled. "You can call me Rea."_

_"Thank you, Rea," the young man said. "I think this has been the first pleasant conversation I've had with anyone in days."_

_Onorea could sense the truth of his words, and she put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. The young man stared at her hand as if he wasn't quite sure what it was. "It'll get better. You get used to the Deathstar pretty quickly. Hey, I'm even starting to appreciate it…a little, at least."_

_"Really?" The smile he gave her this time was warm, and it lit up his whole face. Onorea couldn't help but return the smile in full. "Even though it's…how did you put it? Big, boring, and bland? Not that I don't agree with you, but that wasn't exactly a glowing recommendation."_

_"Well, there's a certain elegance to simplicity. Take the…" Onorea frowned. "What's the name of that Destroyer out there?"_

_"The _Annihilator,_" he answered softly._

_"All right, then, the _Annihilator_ might not be the beautiful ship in the galaxy, but grotesque?" she shrugged. "It's no Iego Ionship, but it's not _that _bad."_

_"You're familiar with Ionships?"_

_"Familiar? I've flown one!" Onorea boasted, and almost immediately felt a blush stain her cheeks. "Well, once. And it was only from the surface of Dagaa to the orbital shipyards, but it was still pretty amazing."_

_"I'll bet it was," he said with the barest hint of boyish envy. "I didn't grow up poor, exactly, but I've never even seen an Ionship up close. They're supposed to be some of the fastest ships around."_

_"Well, I did grow up poor, so I never thought I'd get in the cockpit of one. I never even thought I'd be able to touch one. My family didn't even have enough credits to own a landspeeder – if it weren't for the scholarship program through the Academy, I'd probably still be on that damn moon."_

_He looked at her with a touch of sympathy. "I can relate. I grew up on Tatooine. Trust me, if you ever get the chance to visit it – don't. I couldn't wait to get off of it."_

_"I'll keep that in mind," Onorea said. "Dagaa – that's one of the moons of Iego, by the way – isn't really that bad of a place. It's a little like the Endor moon, actually. But it was just…hard growing up there."_

_"I was raised by my uncle and aunt – they were moisture farmers. I understand 'hard.'"_

_"Moisture farming?" Onorea laughed a little. "I've never even heard of that. We raised greti – their wool is stronger than any synthetic, you know. But my father died in the Clone Wars. My mother…she was never the same after that. My brothers and I tried to keep up with everything, but when Veridi – that was my older brother –when he died a few years ago, everything just sort of collapsed around us."_

_"I'm sorry to hear that," he said softly. "How did he die?"_

_Onorea shrugged, vaguely wondering how they had moved onto such a depressing subject. She didn't like talking about Idi. "He was returning from Coruscant when the ship he was on was attacked by a Rebel force. I've never found out why – probably they thought it had some 'sensitive information' on board, or political prisoners, or something, but the ship wasn't battle-ready and the entire thing exploded with one shot. If there was anything on board the Rebels wanted, they didn't get it."_

_"I'm sorry, Rea," her companion said quietly. "More sorry than you can know."_

_"Well, that's life, I guess," Onorea said with a note of bitterness. "Funny thing is, I got a free ride to the Academy – which was why he was going to Coruscant in the first place. I'd been denied acceptance earlier –it's hard to get in if you're back-planet, and even harder if you're female- but Veridi thought he might be able talk them into re-evaluating me. I guess someone felt they owed my family something after he died. My younger brother got a scholarship, too."_

_"Where's he?"_

_"On his way here, actually. He was supposed to stay in school for a few more years, but he quit recently and enlisted instead." Onorea shook her head. "Bren is a bit of a hothead. He's been likethat sincehe was little. He always wanted to play Imps and Rebels when we were kids, and he always wanted to be the Rebel. When he got older, my mother was terrified he'd run off and join the Rebellion. The way he talked about it, it was like he saw the Rebels as some sort of heroes instead of terrorists." Her small smile of memory died. "He stopped talking that way after Idi's death, though."_

_"I can understand why."_

_"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Onorea asked suddenly, wanting to shift the focus off of her._

_The young man flushed. "One. A sister. But…I'm afraid I haven't seen her recently."_

_"Does she live very far away?" Onorea asked._

_"She used to live on Alderaan," he answered quietly._

_"Oh," Onorea replied, nonplussed. She knew that Alderaan been destroyed several years earlier when Rebel terrorists had based their biological warfare facilities on its surface. It had been a tragedy, but the Rebel forces had been there so long that their base was impossible to neutralize any other way – the only reason it had escaped attention for as long as it had was because it had been hidden underground, honeycombing through the planet's surface but leaving the topside word virtually untouched. If his sister had lived there, it was possible she had been part of the Rebellion. She didn't know what to say about that._

_To Onorea's relief, the hissing of the large doors to the observation lounge broke the awkward silence. Two men in Imperial officers' uniforms entered. She snapped to attention, her back going straight, mildly surprised to note her companion did not._

"_At ease, Ensign," the older man said briefly before turning to her companion. "My lord, I am Captain Edin Dairret. I am to be your executive officer aboard the _Annihilator_."_

_Onorea's heart felt like it had stopped. She couldn't help the incredulous stare she directed towards her companion as he spoke._

"_I see, Captain," he said, a small half-smile on his face. "I don't remember appointing you."_

"_Lord Vader appointed me himself," Captain Dairret said. His voice was mild and his face bland, but somehow his disdain still showed through. "I received his orders only this morning."_

"_I was led to believe I was going to select my own command staff, Captain," the young man said, and Onorea's eyes widened even more. "My father didn't inform me they had already been chosen."_

"_Perhaps Lord Vader wished to save you the trouble_,"_ the captain replied. "I have been Captain aboard the _Annihilator_ for several years now, and I am the most qualified individual to command that ship."_

"_I see," her companion nodded slowly. "Again, I was led to believe I was going to have command."_

"_It is your flagship, Lord Eivel," said Dairret evenly, and if it had been physically possible for them to Onorea's eyes would have fallen from their sockets. She goggled at them. _Lord Eivel…_Darth_ Eivel…oh, gods, have I been talking to…_"But I am sure you don't want to be concerned with the semantics of the day-to-day running of a Star Destroyer. I am simply to… assist you in that capacity."_

"_I see," the young man – Darth Eivel – said again._

"_Perhaps a tour, then, my lord?" the captain asked, inclining his head the slightest amount. "I am sure you would like to see your ship." Something in the way he spoke made 'your ship' sound very much like 'my ship.'_

"_I would very much like that, Captain," Darth Eivel replied. The captain turned away and was stopped when the younger man continued. "But I believe the young woman here was waiting for you as well."_

"_Oh, yes," Captain Dairret turned back and faced Onorea. She snapped her jaw shut and tried her hardest to stand at attention._

"_Ensign Onorea Detlas, Captain," she said, proud of herself for the even tone of her voice. "I am to deliver this to you, sir."_

_He looked at the datapadd in her hand. "Is this the details on the three-zed-zero program?"_

"_Yes, sir," Onorea confirmed, still holding out the padd. "Simulations were all within acceptable performance levels. I performed one live test after the installation was complete. There were no complications."_

"_Only one test?" The captain took the padd from her and looked at it briefly before tucking it away. "Why only one?"_

"_Time constraints, sir," Onorea informed him. "One test was all I could perform with the time allotted to me. But I assure you, the A.I. kernel is stable. I don't foresee any complications."_

"_Very good, then," Dairret said, looking to the sharp-featured officer that had entered with him. "Vesra, please take Ensign…"_

"_Detlas, sir," Onorea supplied._

"_Ensign Detlas to the Main Hangar," Dairret concluded. "Commander Schenel will take her from there."_

"_Yes, sir," the dark-haired man replied, inclining his head. He turned, letting the light illuminate him a bit more, which only emphasized the severity of his face. He saluted. "My lord Eivel, it is an honor to meet you."_

"_An honor," her companion…Darth Eivel…chuckled softly and without humor. "Hardly that." His eyes moved to Dairret. "Shall we go then, Captain?"_

_Onorea watched Captain Dairret and the young man she had been speaking with leave the room. _That can't be Darth Eivel…it can't be…

"_Come along, Ensign," Commander Vesra said, and Onorea's feet began moving obediently with her almost unaware of them doing so._

_When she had heard that Darth Vader had proclaimed his heir, she had felt disbelief. When she had heard that it was his son, disbelief had swelled into mild shock…how could a man like Lord Vader even HAVE a son?_

_But now that she had met him, there was no word to describe what that shock had grown into._

"_Ensign, have you been listening to me?"_

"_Excuse me?" With horror, Onorea realized that Commander Vesra had been speaking with her for several minutes and she didn't remember a word of it. "I'm sorry sir, I…I didn't hear you."_

"_Keep your mind focused on the here and now, Ensign," the commander ordered her curtly. "Or you won't last long here. I guarantee you that."_

"_Yes, sir," Onorea replied._

_They had reached the Main Hangar, and Vesra stopped. "Commander Schenel will detail your new duties, then, Ensign. He should be expecting you."_

"_New duties?" Onorea asked before she could stop herself. Vesra arched an eyebrow at her, his lips pursed in disapproval, and Onorea winced._

"_You're being transferred from the A.I.L. to the Main Hangar, Ensign," Vesra said. "As I've already told you."_

"_But-"_

"_I am short on time, Ensign, and I don't have the leisure to repeat myself for a junior officer who let her mind wander while her superior was speaking," Commander Vesra said pointedly. Onorea flushed. "Commander Schenel is in the command booth right now. I expect he will repeat your new duties, and this time, Ensign, I suggest you listen to them."_

"_Yes, sir," said Onorea weakly. _

_She walked slowly towards the command booth, barely noting Commander Vesra walking away and heading deeper into the opposite side of the hangar. She didn't understand much of what had happened during the past few hours, but on the Deathstar one quickly learned not to question orders. By the time she had reached Commander Schenel and introduced herself only one thought refused to vacate her troubled mind. _

I can't believe that was Darth Eivel….

_She had never expected to meet Darth Eivel, much less have spoken with him. She hadn't expected Lord Vader's son and heir to be so young, hadn't expected him to be so easy to talk to. She hadn't expected him to be so much like herself._

_But out of everything, she hadn't expected him to be so _human.

**END OF PART 18**

**Here it is…my plea for any readers out there to let me know you're still here. I know I promised this part would be done quickly and it wasn't. But I assure you, as long as there are readers still enjoying this, I am going to follow it through to its conclusion. I still love writing this…so I hope someone out there is still enjoying reading it…**

**Let me know what you thought….and I will keep writing…**


	19. Chapter 19

Okay, new chapter! Short, for me, at least, but a lot quicker than the last one…(curse lifted, perhaps?) And very close to the crystal quests…(which are close to written already…)

To answer a few questions, yes, Onorea and Bren's subplot will play into the main plot, we are back on the Falcon as of now, and Wedge/Lando will show up next chapter, too. And to one reader, this chapter is even from her "hanny-bear's" perspective.

You guys rock!

**The Souls of Demons**

**Chapter 19 **

**_By Pyxelle_ **

**OoooOoooO**

_On the Deathstar: 11 days after the Battle of Endor_

One…two…three…four…five.

_Turn._

One…two…three…four…five.

_Turn._

One…two…three…

Screw it.

_Han sighed in frustration as he sat on the small cot that protruded from his cell wall. The room was five paces across in any direction he tried. Seven and a half if he crossed the room diagonally. Twenty-five square paces. Was a pace an accurate enough measurement to actually square? He supposed it was a bit unscientific, but measurements at one time must have been arbitrary. Maybe even determined by something as imprecise as the length of a man's stride. Maybe…_

_Maybe he was going insane. That was certainly a valid possibility. Why else would he have started an internal conversation with himself about something as patently ridiculous as the history of measurements? _

_Because he was bored out of his skull, that's why._

_Han didn't really know how long he had been trapped in this cell. There was no real way to tell how many actual hours had passed since he and Leia had been brought aboard the Deathstar following their disastrous attempt at bringing down the deflector shield. The meals came at regular intervals, so he supposed he could form a rough estimate, but that was assuming that they were feeding him three meals a day. It could be less…or more, for all he knew. Time in his cell was relative. There was no chronometer for him to refer to, making the seconds and minutes and hours blend together into one long, tormented moment that never ended._

_He had somewhat even given up wanting to know the time, because however long it actually had been, he was quite sure it had been long enough to know that the Rebel fleet had also failed in destroying the Deathstar. He hadn't really believed they would have been able to with the deflector shield operational, but had nursed a tiny flame of hope they would have triumphed._

_But even assuming he had been fed three times a day, he knew that over ten days had passed. Far too long to continue keeping any type of fragile hope alive._

_Not to mention the fact that had they succeeded, he would be dead now._

_There was a sudden chirping, and the slot in the door that his food trays were pushed through opened. A covered tray was shoved through, and the slot snapped shut sharply._

_Han sighed as he retrieved the tray. One more meal ticking off the time. He sat back on his cot, lifting the cover off his tray, and froze. He stared down in confusion._

_There was no food on the tray. Instead a datapad rested on top of a pile of clothing, a crisp Imperial cap lying next to it. He picked up the pad and read:_

In exactly forty-three minutes, a cascade failure will cause the locks on your cell door to be released. You will have seven minutes to vacate the cell block – wear the uniform provided and you should be able to move about the station without being detected until hourly checks. This means you have fifty minutes before the alarm is sounded. Princess Leia has quarters in the red block of habitation ring 17. A shuttle has been prepared for you in private hangar 673, and clearance has already been granted for its departure.

In the pocket of the uniform there is a datacard containing a secure comm frequency and decryption key. I will be in contact with you once you are safely away from the Deathstar.

Capricorn

Addendum: Please avail yourself of the other materials on the datacard. Myths and legends can be a close reflection of real life – remember, the root of legend is truth.

_That was all. Han stared at the words for almost a full minute before he could move. His mind had gone numb. Was the Alliance attempting a rescue?_

No,_ his mind answered immediately. Something didn't ring true with that._

_So that meant this 'Capricorn' wasn't a Rebel…but an Imperial._

_A defector._

_In his years spent as a smuggler, Han had learned that if you questioned a lucky break, you usually lost it. So although a hundred questions ran through his mind, he paid none of them attention except for one._

What about Luke?

_If his mysterious benefactor had informed him of Leia's whereabouts, why hadn't he included Luke's?_

_Han refused to entertain the thought that tried to answer that question. There was no way the kid was dead. He'd just have to find out where exactly Luke_ was_. Han wasn't going to leave without him, that was for sure._

_Han pulled off his shirt and grabbed the crisply starched shirt on the tray, dressing quickly. He was surprised to find that the ensign's uniform fit surprisingly well. His clothes changed, he pushed his other clothing underneath his cot with one swift kick._

_While the uniform was a close fit, Han could do little with his hair but finger comb it. He knew that most Imperials kept their hair almost brutally short, and hoped that by smoothing his down as neatly as possible he could hide his longer locks. Coupled with the cap, he hoped it wouldn't be noticed._

_The data disk the message had spoken of was indeed in the pocket of his new shirt, and Han looked at it only briefly before putting it back. He picked up the datapad instead, deleting the message from it, then looked at it thoughtfully for a moment. After a moment of reflection he put the datapad down gently onto the floor, stood, and brought the heel of his boot down on it, hard. The screen shattered and the synthetic casing cracked into several pieces._

_You couldn't be too careful._

_Now all he had to do was wait. Han sat on the edge of his cot, his leg jittering up and down, and stayed there for almost five full seconds before his nerves got the better of him and he stood once more. He wasn't going to be able to sit still, and he started to pace again. At least now, though, he seemed to be counting towards something._

One…two…three…

OoooOoooO

_On the Falcon: present day_

_…four…five…_

Han counted in his head slowly, trying to calm himself. It wasn't working.

"So let me get this straight," he said, feeling the weight of the blaster in his hand and wishing he knew just who it was he should target. "Chewie's just completely killed our communications system, Dena's been trading with the Hutt, and Threepio's an Imperial spy – which, of course, we only discovered because while Dena was trying to send a message to the Hutt through Threepio, Chewie recognized _Coruscant's_ coordinates and for some unknown reason decided the best way to keep the message from being transmitted was to rip the dataport cable out of the bulkhead…am I getting this?"

"I don't think Chewbacca intended to rip it out of the wall, Han, I think he just got a little…overexcited," Dena said. Chewbacca growled in agreement before looking down at her with a soft whine. Dena rubbed her shoulder, where a dark blue bruise was already beginning to form. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me, Chewie. You thought I was sending our coordinates to the Empire."

"No, apparently, that was goldenrod," Han said dryly. "You were only sending them to the Hutt."

"I was _not,"_ Dena argued, stepping back as Anakin dropped beside her and began inspecting Threepio. She glanced down at him briefly before meeting Han's eyes again. "I was sending a credit transfer."

"Trading with the Hutt is outlawed by the Alliance, you know," Han reminded her.

"She was sending money to buy out her sister's slave contract, Han," Leia said shortly. Han noticed that she didn't look at him at all as she walked briskly past him to look at Dena's shoulder. "And I really don't think you're the one to be talking about anyone else's illegal activities."

Han ground his teeth." So sorry for stepping on your toes, your Worship."

The look Leia shot back at him cut, but he kept it from showing on his face. He even managed to give her a humorless smile in return.

"I know everyone assumed that I'd escaped slavery when I joined the Alliance," Dena continued, "but I was the oldest in my family, and I didn't have any brothers. My family was a failing High Clan that needed both money and position…so while my sister was sold when she reached adolescence, I was very carefully kept safe from _any_ male. Even my bodyguards were female."

"All female bodyguards?" Han asked, his eyes widening with curiosity that was not as genuine as it looked. "And Twi'leks, to boot. Sounds interesting."

If Leia's eyes had cut before, they were engraving her anger with razor sharp precision on him now.

"They were planning on marrying her off politically, Han," she said icily, "isn't that obvious?"

"Sorry," Han shot back, "ignorant foot soldier here, remember?"

Dena didn't seem to notice the barbs they were throwing at each other.

"Even on Ryloth, though, they can't keep the galaxy out forever," she said bitterly. "I learned how to break into the comsystems when I was only fourteen. I was fifteen the day I got off of that backwards mudball, back when Bail Organa was still heading the Alliance. Alderaan was a lot more civilized than Ryloth, and they let me stay in the Haven Houses until I was old enough to join up."

"And now you've saved up enough to buy out your sister's contract," Han finished for her, the sarcasm in his voice not intended for the recipient of the comment, but his wife. Their eyes battled from across the room.

Dena nodded. "I was in the middle of 'negotiations' regarding her contract when we evacuated Borunn. A deal with the Hutt can takes weeks, months, or even _years_ to complete, and we'd already been bartering for several months. I'm sorry."

"I remember what it was like dealing with the Hutt, Dena. If they had thought you'd lost interest, she might have gotten traded on-planet and you'd have to start all over again with a new owner," Han said, and Dena nodded. He gave his wife a crooked smile. "See, I can figure _some_ things out without a committee."

There was a brief flash of hurt in Leia's eyes and Han instantly wished he could take the comment back. Then she hardened into stone.

"Good," she said, "then maybe you can figure out how to tell Dena where Wedge and Artoo _really_ are?"

"What?" he asked, honestly confused at the change of subject. "Wedge?"

"What about Wedge?" Dena asked, a frown creasing her flawless features.

"What does _Wedge_ have to do with anything?" Han asked.

"I think she deserves to know, Han," Leia said. "Her and Anakin both. No more secrets. No more lies."

Han's eyes widened a little in alarm. _What was she doing?_

"Leia…" he said.

"You didn't want to keep it secret in the first place, remember?"

_No, sweetheart, I never wanted to do it at all. Keeping it secret after the fact was another issue entirely. _"Leia, this isn't the time-"

"It's the perfect time. It seems like everyone on this ship is telling a secret today," Leia said, crossing her arms over her chest. "So why not me? Why can't I tell her about Wedge and Artoo-"

"Leia…"

"…and Alpha-23 and Lando's idea…"

"_Leia_…"

"…because we still haven't heard from either Wedge _or_ Artoo…"

"_Leia_!"

"…and we both know that means they're probably dead or captured…"

"Leia, _please_!"

His wife looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "What?"

There was a long, strained silence while Han pleaded with his wife through his gaze alone. It was finally broken with Anakin's voice.

"This is absurd!" he shouted, throwing a hydro-spanner down onto the floor.

"I completely agree," Han said too quickly, not realizing until after the words had left his mouth that the comment wasn't meant for him.

"Threepio's wiring is a complete mess!" Anakin said in exasperation, running his fingers through his hair. "He's using a third of his computing capacity, if that. Re-routed pathways, sub-memory three _completely_ corroded, and I don't even want to _think_ about why his alpha processor was replaced by a ZX-69 instead of a ZX-96. What kind of an imbecile would repair a droid this way?"

Anakin jumped a little when a deep rumble from Chewbacca told him it had been the one-eyed Wookiee he was calling an imbecile.

"Oh," Anakin said, his voice a little softer. "I just…I mean, this is…the repairs should have been cleaner," he finally finished a little lamely. "Threepio still would rival any protocol droid produced if his systems were fully operational."

"That droid is thirty years old if it's a day, pops," Han said caustically, noting Anakin's lips tighten in annoyance, "and we haven't exactly had the best equipment around here to repair him with, if you couldn't tell. How the hell is do you expect him to be able to pull the weight a newer model could?"

"Because I know his capabilities," Anakin said.

"What, are you an expert on protocol droids?"

"Not really," Anakin said. "Just Threepio."

"Oh, just Threepio," Han said, nodding in mock seriousness. "That's interesting. Well, he _is_ an Imperial spy…I suppose he sent you a copy of his mechanical specifications back when you were still into the monochromatic look."

Anakin's face showed no reaction to his taunting, but Han could see the warning look Leia gave him out of the corner of his eye. He ignored it.

"No," Anakin said evenly, "I built him."

"What?" Han felt a burst of startled laughter escape him.

"I built him."

"Sure you did," Han said in disbelief, "whatever you say, pipsqueak."

Anakin sighed.

"I don't really care if you believe me or not, Captain Solo," he said, "but please…if you're going to insist on calling me names, at least decide if I'm a puerile adolescent or entering senility. I don't think I can take both of them."

"Oh, all right," Han's hand involuntarily tightened on the blaster still in it. "What name should I call you by, my lord?"

Far too many voices responded.

Anakin's anger finally showed through. "Stop baiting me, you ignorant-"

Leia was obviously outraged. "Han! That was completely-"

At the same time Dena interrupted with, "What did you mean about-"

And even Chewbacca sent a short warbling protest into the common cabin.

All in all, Han had enough time to think that it was quite a remarkable noise they had created before the ship rocked from an explosion outside the hull, silencing all of them.

To tell the truth, he was almost relieved.

The common cabin was small enough that the ship's motions sent Dena tumbling down, pinning Anakin underneath her, while Leia narrowly missed crashing into the bulkhead only by slamming into the soft-solid bulk of Chewbacca instead.

Han's hip slammed into the corner of the table painfully. He managed to maintain his balance by bracing his feet between the bulkhead and the table's base, his seasoned space-farer's legs instinctively moving with the ship but the blaster in his hand clattering onto the table. It skittered across the surface, falling to the floor on the other side as the ship shuddered out of lightspeed.

_What the hell? _Han thought briefly. He looked over to where Anakin was disentangling himself from the Twi'lek and the golden limbs of Threepio, and suddenly felt a wave of disgust with himself.

_Damn it, I know better than to let the autopilot compute hyperspace exit vectors. It miscalculated. _

"I think we've found your minefield, Vader," he said.

Han barely noted Leia's gasp as his mind kicked into autopilot.

"Fun as this has been, we're gonna need to shelve it for now," he said, moving as soon as the ship's motion had smoothed out. "Leia, I need you at sensor controls." Leia's mouth opened to say something, but Han didn't give her the chance. "Stow the comments, sweetheart, you can give me hell later. Chewie, get down into one of the gunner-pods – if I'm right, we're going to need to shoot these babies out of our way. Dena?"

"Here."

By now, Han had reached the cockpit of the _Falcon_ and had slid into the pilot's seat. They were out of lightspeed, but the ship was still going much too fast for him to assess the damage yet.

"I need you to get that dataport cable replaced and the comsystems back online," Han said curtly. It was amazing how his brain still was able to put that into the mix, but he'd always been good under pressure. "The Alliance still needs to know that the Empire has the coordinates for Vegalles."

Space seemed to solidify around them as they slowed. Han stared out the viewports, noting the red-gold planet and its three suns with his lip curled in mild disgust. It seemed as if silver pebbles had been scattered across the space between it and the Falcon, and he knew that each of those silver specks was one of the mines.

"Well, there's your Jedi hellhole," he finally said, looking back at Anakin jauntily.

The other man just stared at him with inscrutable blue eyes, and Han found he couldn't hold that gaze for very long. Instead he glanced over at the others, noting that the only one not doing something he'd ordered them to do was Anakin. Since there was nothing he wanted Anakin to do, that was just fine with him.

"Ready to fight our way to the event horizon?" Han Solo asked.

**End of Part 19**

**EDIT**: I made 400+ reviews! Thanks, all, for making my week! Cookies for everyone!

**...come to the dark side...we have cookies...**

_Padawan Pyxelle holds out a chocolate creme Oreo and waves it invitingly for a moment, then suddenly stops and looks around with fear in her eyes... _

heh heh...Master Kelia's not around, is she?

_whistling innocently, Pyxelle hides the Oreo in her padawan robes and as if by magic produces a white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookie. She nods wisely_...

The light side has cookies too, you know. And ours have nuts.

_waves and takes a bite of cookie as Padawan Pyxelle strolls out of the post and the much more serious Jedi Knight Pyxelle walks in._

**Well, all, we've made it to Rakaell! Thanks for staying on the journey… **

**Now, this isn't mine, and I can't remember where I read it but it still is true… **

**Not reviewing is a fanfiction sin! ****J **


	20. Chapter 20

No excuse except real life, sucky inspiration, and I humbly beg forgiveness for the insanely long wait for anyone still out there.

This chapter dedicated to Lady Eivel, who flattered me insanely with her penname change, and furrylittlebantha, who continues to be a source of both inspiration and motivation for me (read her work, it's awesome!)

And to all of you who have stuck around despite my absence. Thanks so much for reading!

**The Souls of Demons**

** Chapter 20 **

**_By Pyxelle_ **

**OoooOoooO**

"The _Falcon,_ score one hundred and twenty seven, junkyard mine, zero."

Han Solo's face was smug even from where Anakin was sitting, and the former Jedi had to grit his teeth to keep back the smart retort that kept trying to slip through his lips. The _Falcon's _captain seemed to think that Anakin should be impressed by his 'score,' which he had been updating them all with since the first mine had exploded with Chewbacca's well-aimed laser pulse.

The worst part of it all was that Anakin _was_ impressed – it wouldn't have been easy to navigate through the labyrinthine path they were passing through in order to reach Rakaell, even for him. Not that he couldn't have – if he had been allowed to do anything other than stand uselessly by and watch the others work he could have shown Han his own prowess at the helm.

The Rebel pilot flashed an insufferable grin at his father-in-law as he tossed a compliment back over his shoulder. "Nice shooting, Chewie!"

The Wookiee's undulating call let them know the compliment was appreciated.

Behind them, Leia was watching the sensor controls intently. "I think we're through. Proximity detectors don't show any more stationary explosives in our immediate vicinity…I know our range is practically nil this close to a trinary sun system, but I think we might have just slipped through."  
Han leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. There was an arrogant satisfaction on his face.

"Great," he said, "What did I tell you? No problems."

"Speak for yourself," said Leia, blinking. Anakin couldn't help but notice how tired she looked as she rubbed her eyes. "I've been staring at this thing for six hours. I think my optic nerves are fried."

"Well, the view outside's not gonna help, I can tell you that," Han muttered, swinging the ship towards the planet's atmosphere. "Ugly little dustball, isn't it?"

As much as Anakin hated to agree with his son-in-law, he couldn't help it. Rakaell _was_ an astonishingly ugly planet, and as they started to move closer to it an uncomfortable thought came to him…what the planet _really_ reminded him of was a disturbing blend of the dry sands of Tatooine and the volcanic lakes of Mustafar. It was impossible not to feel an intense dislike for it.

There was the sound of soft footfalls, and Anakin glanced back to see Dena entering the cockpit.

"Han, I hate to tell you this," she began unhappily, "but I don't think there's any way to get the comsystems back online. The cable's shot, and you don't have any replacements. I've tried everything I can think of to enhance the integrity of the signal, but it's just not carrying one."

"Strip the ends of the cable and try to wire it to the dataport manually," Han said, leaning forward, the arrogant look instantly gone from his face and replaced by grim seriousness, "and reset the power levels to 150 percent. That should get us signal integrity."

Dena looked at him as if he were insane.

"Yeah, for about two seconds," the Twi'lek said bluntly, "before it completely fries the entire dataport control board, and possibly any system board near it – you could conceivably have to replace every circuit in the comm. A cable can be replaced in about two minutes and is practically free. Replacing the control board and surrounding systems could take weeks."

"But they _can_ be replaced," Han said, wincing. "I hate to deliberately damage the old girl, but she's tough. She'll recover."

"It would still only give us two, maybe three seconds of use."

"Which is long enough to send out a comm message," Han said, turning back to his controls. "We don't need it to work for long, just long enough to get one message out to Lando."

"But-"

"Dena, just do it!" Han said with frustration in his voice. Anakin could see Dena open her mouth briefly to protest again, but she seemed to think better of it and sighed.

"All right, you're the captain," she said, turning to leave the room. "I'll let you know when it's done."

"Thank you," Han said in a grudging tone.

Leia sighed, massaging her shoulder. Anakin could sense her fatigue easily, but even if he hadn't been able to he would have been able to tell how tired she was. It was etched into every feature of her face. She had been pushing herself every day for weeks, pushing far harder than was good for her on any level. The stress of traversing the minefield seemed to have had her cross the line into utter exhaustion.

"Leia, you need to take a break," he said gently. His daughter looked up at him in surprise.

"I'm all right," she said, shaking her head and turning back to the sensors. "I don't want to risk a mine exploding just as we think we're home free. I don't _think_ there are any more, but I don't know for sure."

"You're no good to me asleep on the job, sweetheart," Han said, his voice gentler than his words were. "Take a break."

Anakin could see her reluctance. "Leia, you need to rest. I'll take over the sensors for a while."

"No, he won't," Han said, and inside Anakin felt a well of frustration that had been dug solely by his son-in-law fill again. "But we're through the mines. It's fine. Pilot sensors will be all right from here on in."

"Leia's right, Captain Solo," Anakin said, trying not to let his irritation get out of control. "It's better that we assume the minefield could extend right to the atmosphere. I can-"

"No, you can't," Han broke in pleasantly, "and Leia, get out of my cockpit. Rest."

"I'm fine, really," protested Leia. Anakin shook his head even as she spoke, trying to keep his breathing even and calm. He had little success.

"Leia, I've been _standing _here doing _nothing_ for six hours while the rest of you were so tightly wound that even a Jedi Master would have been near to snapping," he said, and as he continued he couldn't help the fact that his voice was rising or that his hand had clenched into a fist at his side. "I can monitor the sensors just as well as any of you can– better, actually, because I'm not exhausted."

"Save your strength for that hell planet, pops, you're not touching my ship."

"Captain Solo, this is ridiculous," Anakin's exasperation was impossible to hide, and even harder to keep from turning into outright anger. He was only peripherally aware that he had taken an involuntary step towards Han, and that the fist that had clenched was now rising. "My daughter is tired, but it's obvious she's uncomfortable with no one watching the precision sensors. I'm not used to feeling useless, and_ I can help_."

"_My wife_ can go back to _our cabin_ and rest without your help," Han said forcefully, "I'll call Chewbacca back in here to watch the sensors."

Anakin's eyebrows shot up. He smiled thinly and gave a mildly exaggerated shrug, turning towards the gunner-pod. "Fine then, I'll go man the quad-laser-"

"_Like hell you will!_" Han exploded, flying to his feet.

Later on, Anakin knew that the only reason his fist never connected with Han Solo's face was because Leia's half-shrieking protest sounded so much like Padmé's voice on Mustafar that he actually stumbled away from her, for one terrible moment thinking that it was his wife he was hearing.

"_Gods, can't you two even get along when you're AGREEING about something?_" Leia cried, the accompanying exhaustion in her voice not at all related to her fatigue. "_Or had you forgotten that this fight is about me?"_

Anakin wondered if the guilt that instantly filled him at her words was as obvious in his face as it was on her husband's. He opened his mouth to apologize but Leia's voice ran right over him.

"The two of you are going to drive me mad!" She turned to face her husband, he anger obvious in her tightly held features. "Han, I'm sick and tired of you acting like a schoolyard bully every time Anakin tries to touch your favorite toy. I don't care if you don't like him. He _is_ trying to help me, even you can't deny that forever, and it's ridiculous that you continue to treat him as if he's some sort of prisoner on board this ship…he's not. I'm not asking you to forgive him for what he's done. I don't even know if I have. But you are going to have to accept the fact that he _is_ here, and all these childish temper tantrums you insist on having are not going to change that. So you might as well stop having them."

Anakin's brief feeling of vindication evaporated as his daughter turned her furious gaze to him. "And _you_, Anakin! You may look like you've just seen your twentieth life-day, but we all know you haven't. For the love of Alderaan, act your age! Whether or not he's behaving like a stubborn brat, the _Falcon_ is still Han's ship, and you need to respect that. If he doesn't want your help that's his choice. You can't blame him for not trusting you, after all. I know you're frustrated with the situation, but you're not the only one. Show a little class, for crying out loud."

Anakin saw a hot stain of embarrassment on Han Solo's face across from him, and he knew a mirror of that flush was on his own face. His cheeks were burning, and he shuffled back and forth from foot to foot for a moment, studying his boots as if they were the most fascinating things in the galaxy for almost ten seconds before he realized what he was doing.

_I'm acting like a daysworn padawan,_ he thought with mild disgust. The thought made his face flush even more, and though he raised his eyes to meet Leia's he couldn't quite wipe the blush from his features. "Leia-"

"No, Anakin, I don't want to hear it," Leia's voice silenced him instantly. No sooner had she finished admonishing him did her eyes flicker over to her husband. "Not you either, Han."

Han's jaw snapped shut, and he glanced at Anakin for a brief moment, a rueful half-smile on his face. Anakin was surprised to feel an answering grin on his own face, but not half as surprised as Han seemed to be when the rebel realized he was actually commiserating with _Anakin_, of all people. A scowl covered the grin so fast that Anakin nearly laughed.

_Leia's absolutely right…we're behaving like a couple of schoolchildren_, he thought wryly.

"Now," Leia said sternly, "we are going to be landing within the hour, even moving at the bogsnail's pace we've kept so far. I am certain that I am not going to die of exhaustion in that small amount of time, so I'm going to sit back down and do my job. I can get some sleep once we're on the surface."

There was an irritated call from the gunner-pod. "No, Chewie, you need to hang in there a little longer yet!" Leia called in response. She looked at her husband with raised eyebrows. "Well, are you going to fly this junk heap or not? I'm sure Anakin would be happy to take over if-"

Han moved into the pilot's seat so quickly Anakin had to bite his tongue to hold back a laugh and Leia sighed in exasperation. "All right then. Let's get this ship planetside, shall we?"

The next few minutes were silent, neither Han nor Leia saying a word that didn't relate to what they were doing. Anakin, hovering behind his daughter, only got a sharp comment about 'reading over her shoulder' when he tried to assist Leia with the sensors. His anger had evaporated, but the sense of frustration was certainly still there as the minutes crept by with an infuriating slowness.

"We're going to be entering the atmosphere in about two minutes," said Han, his eyes flickering over Anakin briefly before landing on his wife, "and will you look at that. _Still_ no mines."

_He just can't help it, can he?_ Anakin thought with amusement only mildly colored by annoyance.

"It looks like your instincts were right, Han," Leia said, and then the tone of her voice changed, a tinge of confusion coloring it. "Hang on a moment…something's coming up on sensors."

"Another mine?" Anakin asked, despite himself a touch of childish superiority trickling into him. He pressed his lips together, a dry smile coming of its own accord.

_Looks like I can't help it, either,_ he thought self-deprecatingly.

Next to him, Leia was shaking her head slowly. "I'm not sure yet, but I don't think so. The signature's not right…I'm having trouble…**_HAN INCOMING_**-"

Leia's voice was cut off even as it ignited with a frantic alarm, her warning just a fraction of a second too late. Anakin stumbled as the noise from the explosion tore through the air, deafening him. He thrust his hand out, desperately trying to grab some sort of handhold as the ship rocked violently to the right, but it became clear quickly that stopping himself was going to be impossible. The _Falcon_ flipped once, and Anakin felt himself ricochet across the cockpit like an uncontrolled speeder bouncing off the sheer red cliffs of Tattoine's racetracks. He struck the wall with the palm of his hand, his arm extended and locking just before the impact. A jarring pain sizzled its way up Anakin's arm, traveling from his wrist all the way to his shoulder as if it were a white-hot electric current that used the bones of his body as it's conductor. He stifled a cry of pain.

"_Aft stabilizers are out!"_ Han shouted in front of him. The rebel captain was still seated, kept firmly in his chair by one arm thrown over the navigational console, allowing him to grip the edge of the control board so tightly the knuckles had gone bone-white. "_Power overload in the-"_

There was another ear-splitting screeching of durasteel warping under superheated stress and a phosphorescent flash lit up the cockpit with an almost impossible white light, half-blinding Anakin. His eyes squinted shut, the reaction too slow to protect him much and in the viewport in front of him he could barely make out the outlines of a piece of _something_ metallic and vaguely resembling some part of the _Falcon_ passing swiftly across his view, spinning wildly on its axis as it whipped through space and into the vast blackness beyond their view.

_We probably needed that,_ Anakin thought crazily as it vanished out of sight.

There was a rapid series of _popping!_ noises, and Anakin saw through almost fully slitted eyes that the sublight engine control's indicator lights had burst with the explosion's backlash. They spewed fountains of angry black smoke into the air, filling the small cockpit with the smell of electricity and charred plasticene. Anakin raised his arm, knowing if was a futile effort but automatically moving anyways, trying to ward off the stinging rainfall of blue-silver sparks that showered him from too many shattered circuit boards to count. He stumbled back as he did so, his head striking the wall so hard that blackness covered his vision, a dark drape being thrown over his mind that blanketed his consciousness almost instantly.

For one terrible moment he felt as if he were going to lose his tenuous grip on reality, but then a muffled cry of hoarse pain pierced the descending fog and he threw the black draping off as if it were a too-heavy cloak and demanded his mind to swim back to consciousness. As he did, Anakin realized that he was no longer colliding with the bulkheads around him- instead he found himself gripping a hanging cable, swinging along with its motion as the world began to come back into focus.

"Han, both stabilizers are completely inoperational. We're not going to be able to stop." Leia's voice held a note of panic. In the viewport, Rakaell bobbed and spun as if it were the planet that was spinning out of control and not the _Millennium Falcon._ "We can't just cut power to the engines, either. We're already caught in the planet's gravity field."

"Tell me something I don't know, Leia!" Han shouted back at her, his voice tight and harsh. "That planet's not getting closer because of any screen magnification, you know!"

Anakin's eyes flashed at Han, narrowing at the heat his son-in-law directed towards Leia. It hadn't been _her_ fault she had missed the mine. If he had only been allowed to _help,_ Anakin might have been able to catch sight of the explosive early enough to have avoided it. But this arrogant, infuriating _rebel,_ this reprobate _pirate_… "Did you catch that on pilot sensors, _Captain_? It's not Leia's fault you missed that mine! I told you-"

"That was no damn mine, that was a blasted ground defense missile!" Han snarled at him with volcanic heat.

"What?" Anakin asked, disbelieving. There _wasn't_ any ground defense on the planet – though he'd never personally been there, he remembered reviewing the security installation shortly after the Jedi Purge, and defense towers had never been constructed on the surface. It had been determined that the minefield was easily deterrent enough.

"A ground defense missile!" Han shot back in that same coarse voice, the words ground out through tightly gritted teeth. "I think you forgot to mention those!"

"That's impossible!"

Han ignored him, his focus on the ship's controls, but his expression didn't waver – tight ridges creased his forehead and his lips stayed pulled back, making him bare his teeth like some sort of feral animal and letting a sound that was something between a growl and a sob fight its way out of his son-in-law's throat. That sound was brief and not loud, and even as a terribly sickening (and horribly familiar) stench assaulted his senses Anakin finally understood.

Han's coarse tone with Leia earlier hadn't been due to anger, but to pain. The rebel must have been injured when the ship had been struck, and Anakin's anger vanished instantly, knowing that for him to allow it to show in his voice Han must have been in quite a lot of pain indeed. His stomach sank inside him, and even as he looked over Anakin knew what must have exploded just moments before.

One glance confirmed his suspicions. The entire surface of the navicomm was covered in sooty scorch-marks, the lights that usually dotted the board either dead or obliterated. The explosion had burst the durasteel panel in several places, making the charred, jagged edges of razor-sharp metal bloom up from it like deadly flowers tipped with blood already searing in the heat. A small flame still flickered from one rebellious wire that thrashed back and forth over the stabilizer controls, dancing over the obliterated console gleefully. The navicomm console itself was plainly useless, that much was immediately clear, meaning that any course the ship took from there on in would have to be guided by human senses alone. Alongside the pilot's main control board, the co-pilot's lights stayed dark and dead, a few of them showing scars from the explosion but the damage nowhere near the extent of the opposite side.

Anakin's mind assimilated all this in an instant, noting the damage and automatically filing it away with a precise eye, but that its importance paled as his eyes went to the _Falcon's_ captain. Anakin felt bile rose in his throat, his stomach knotting as he realized what had made the Rebel general's voice as painfully harsh as it had.

The skin covering almost two-thirds of Han's arm was covered in a mass of blackened blisters, and the rebel general's hand looked nearly useless, hanging at his side with the fingers curled into an involuntary fist of pain. Deep gashes ran alongside the underside of his forearm, the wounds red and angry-looking but bloodless – they had been cauterized the instant the console had exploded under his grip. Though in a way this was a good thing, as it would prevent the potentially deadly blood loss such injuries were almost certain to produce, the pain must have been incredible. How Han was still managing to focus on the ship was astounding. Anakin felt an almost physical pang of sympathy shoot through him like a bolt of cold lightning.

"I didn't know about any ground defense," Anakin said honestly, moving towards Han, his feet staggering with the still-rocky movement of the ship. "You have to believe me – I didn't know. But that doesn't matter now – what matters is getting us to the surface in one piece. You're hurt, and the pilot's console is completely dead. You're not going to be able to fly the ship like this."

"Han?" Leia started to turn towards them, her voice rising in concern. "Are you-"

"Keep your eyes on the sensors, Leia, I'm fine!" Han shouted quickly, shifting in his seat so that the injured limb was hidden from her sight. "Cut my arm a little is all. I've gotten worse in bar fights. But that missile nearly made us nothing but one more space-carcass for the salvage crews, and I'd rather marry a Hutt than let some low-life scavengers pick over _my_ ship. If there's one missile, it's got friends, and the _Falcon's_ had enough of a beating today. I need you to keep those pretty eyes glued to the sensors, sweetheart, and make damn sure we _see_ the next one coming."

"Han-"

The strain in Han Solo's voice was extreme, almost pleading. "Leia, _please_!"

Anakin almost thought she was going to ignore him, but then Leia swung back to the controls, moving quickly but her reluctance to do so obvious despite that. She could tell something wasn't right with Han's reaction, Anakin knew, but taking time to find out what was a luxury she didn't have. The ship had steadied only enough to keep them mostly upright, letting the occupants of the cockpit remain more or less in one place, but it was far from stabilized. Anakin shifted his gaze downwards, moving towards the co-pilot's seat, his hands already reaching for the switch that would shift main control over to the secondary console. "Cut power to the navicomm, Captain. I'll take over main controls, and if you-"

Han's good hand clamped over his with a strength that surprised Anakin, considering the rebel's condition. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Anakin blinked. _Surely he sees he can't fly the ship like that!_ "I can't fly this ship without shifting the controls, Captain, and with the navicomm out it's going to be hard enough to level us out. I _can_ land without the navicomm, but not if I only have partial control of the piloting console."

"Forget it, pops, I'm-"

_By the gods of every planet in the galaxy, this has got to stop,_ Anakin thought.

"Captain Solo, there's no time for this," he interrupted, his voice cutting off the other man's cleanly, and he spun Han's seat around to face him. The sharp hiss of pain his son-in-law made almost made Anakin wince, but there wasn't time for sympathy any more than there was for their useless bickering. His eyes locked with Han's grimly, and when he spoke his voice was just loud enough to reach Han's ears over the noise in the cockpit, but not quite loud enough to travel to Leia's a few paces away. Anakin's lowered voice had become deadly serious. "You can't respond fast enough right now, and you know that. If another missile homes in on us, you won't be able to respond as quickly as I can. The ship can't take another hit like that – if it does, we're all dead. So just let go of your anger for one moment and let me take over piloting…you can go right back to hating me once we're safely on the surface. Just let me get us there in as close to one piece as I can…please, Captain."

They stared at each other for a very short moment, and then Han's hand released the clamp that connected the navicomm to ship's main power. The dancing wire skittered once more over the blackened console and then wilted as the electrical fuel that had given it life vanished. The co-pilot's console began to light up, a few controls spitting sparks angrily as they were brought to life but most of them flashing obediently as they came online.

"Thank you," Anakin said, sinking into the co-pilot's seat and his fingers positioning themselves almost automatically over the controls. Anakin thought it was that _please_ that made Captain Solo shift the controls over almost as much as the fact that the accomplished freighter pilot knew very well that he couldn't dodge missiles with one hand useless. His eyes stayed trained on Anakin, the former Jedi knowing their intense gaze continued to follow him even as the controls came alive under his fingers. He tried to tune his son-in-law out as he ran his eyes over the _Falcon's _controls, familiarizing himself in its layout as best he could with a three-second evaluation. "Watch the starboard maneuvering thrusters," said Han softly as Anakin noted the data Leia sent him from the sensor console showed another missile was already making its way towards them. "They're a little touchy."

"Thank you," Anakin said, his eyes not leaving the viewport. Even damaged as it was, the _Falcon_ responded to his commands deftly, and Anakin felt his opinion of his son-in-law edge upward another notch almost involuntarily. The _Millennium Falcon_ might look like just another 'junk heap' but it certainly didn't handle like one.

A flash of warning from within the Force made Anakin drop the ship's nose down sharply, and a missile exploded just over them, it's detonator activated by the edge of the engine's wake. The freighter rocked hard, but Anakin thought he had avoided most of the blast. But the Force could only warn them so much.

"Leia, did you pick up where those missiles are coming from?" Anakin asked, glancing briefly over at his daughter. He noticed that Han had shifted back into a position where Leia's quick look towards them could not show the princess how badly her husband was hurt.

"No," she said, turning back to her screen. "Nothing...I can't get a lock on _anything_."

"I need more than that, Leia!" Anakin said, his words emphasized by another console behind him igniting in a shower of sparks.

"I know, Anakin!" Leia snapped. "I'm trying!"

Beside him, Han made a strangled sound of pain as Anakin was forced to guide the ship into a controlled roll, the movement as smooth as he could make it but not quite enough to keep the general's badly injured arm from grazing the control panel. Leia shot one quick, worried look over her shoulder and Anakin caught the pointed stare her husband gave her in return.

"I'm _fine,_ Leia," Han said, answering her unasked question. The tightness in his voice sounded more like irritation than pain now, though Anakin knew it had to be a façade that Han was putting on for his daughter's sake. "Just keep your eyes glued to the sensors, sweetheart. Don't worry, I'll let you play doctor later. Promise."

Leia replied to that comment with an unladylike snort. "You wish."

Anakin could help but credit Han's strength as his son-in-law managed a harsh but amused chuckle. "Don't I."

Another missile exploding far too close to them for Anakin's taste brought the short-lived banter to a standstill, and he braced himself for impact as an incandescent starburst whited out the viewport. That one had been too close. He dove the ship downwards towards Rakaell's surface. "Leia, I need to know where those are coming from!"

"Anakin, _ I am trying!_" she shouted back, her frustration making her voice climb several notches. "I told you, I can't get a lock! There's some sort of interference…"

"It's the radiation from the trinary sun system," Han said, covering the pain in his voice by speaking through clenched teeth. "The _Falcon's _shielding is failing."

"We're entering the atmosphere," Anakin said, cutting power to the aft stabilizers. The ship bucked violently as it exited the vacuum of space but Anakin didn't dare reactivate the stabilizers – with one out he couldn't risk sending the ship into an uncontrolled spin. "That should protect us from most of the radiation. What's the repulsor jet status?"

"Repulsor jets at half power," Han said, flipping a switch awkwardly with his left hand. "It's gonna be a bumpy landing."

"Radiation levels dropping," Leia said, craning her neck upwards to check the readouts. "…sensor integrity up to forty percent…got it! Anakin, I'm sending the coordinates to your console...looks like there's some sort of planetary defense installation near a large mountain, probably in the foothills. We should be on it in less than a minute."

"Chewie, coming up on target!" Han called out to the Wookie in the gunner-pod below them. The faded, distant quality to the Rebel's voice made Anakin look at him sharply. His son-in-law's face was ashen and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. Even more worrying to Anakin was the way Han's eyes had gone glassy, staring at the control board in front of him as if he didn't really see it.

_He's going into shock_.

There wasn't time to act on his concern. The ship's proximity alert sounded with a loud electronic screech of warning.

"Almost in range, Chewie, be ready for…" Leia's voice trailed off. "…for the love of…it's _immense_."

Anakin didn't need to ask what she was talking about. The defense towers were dwarfed by the sheer red rock face behind them, the rust-colored dust that swirled off it as windstorms scoured its surface echoing phantom flames in the distance. The towers sat at its base, evenly spaced, looking like the malevolent darker siblings of the lighthouses used by sailors long ago, in some past decade that had been lost to time.

_Those have to be guarding the Temple…but where is it? _

They were headed straight towards the foot of the mountain, where logic told Anakin the near-forgotten temple _had _to be, but the only structures his instruments were showing him were the defense towers themselves. The only other thing was that damned burning mountain, a monstrosity blotting out all but the very top of Rakaell's third sun, jutting out of the ground as if some sort of crazed fire-god was slowly attempting to birth itself from the rocky red ground of the planet. Neither his sensors nor the information Leia was feeding him from her console showed any other structures around them for hundreds of kilometers. So if the temple wasn't in the mountain's seemingly non-existent foothills, it a had to be _inside_ the mountain…at least, that was the only viable answer Anakin could come up with. The readouts had shown him that a vast network of caves honeycombed the mountain, connected to each other by thin winding tunnels that all seemed to lead to some sort of cavern in its depths.

Anakin couldn't see a way to breach any of it, not the caves or the tunnels or the cavern, all of these buried so deep beneath the behemoth's surface that it would take an Imperial mining team weeks to burrow into the hard iron of its body. A wide cave at the foot seemed to be the only possible entrance, it's nearly perfect rectangular mouth opening as if it were a gateway into hell itself. But as they continued to draw nearer to that opening something about it continued to gnaw at Anakin, something that was _wrong_ about his conclusions that crystallized in one mind-shattering instant. A jolt of shock galvanized him as his brain lit upon the answer he was looking for.

The temple wasn't _in_ the mountain…the temple _was _ the mountain.

Even as the thought hit him he knew that it had to be true, his eyes confirming his thoughts as they continued to race closer. Massive stone columns flanked the entrance to what Anakin now knew was a gateway rather than a cave, the elaborate carvings that etched them obviously marking this place as a structure that had been created by a sentient hand and not something natural at all. The gaping maw of the mammoth Temple almost swallowed the defense towers that seemed to be spitting insignificant sparks in front of it.

_A hundred Jedi Temples could fit inside there,_ Anakin thought with no small amount of awe, his hands hovering over the controls,_ and still have room to spare._

_"Incoming_!"

Leia's clipped voice penetrated his stunned mind, and Anakin tried to push that profoundly disturbing thought out of his head. He needed to _focus._

"Attempting evasive maneuvers," he answered, his fingers moving almost without thought across the _Falcon's _controls in a staccato dance of controlled desperation. The defense towers were dangerously close now, asserting their presence with a fury as if to spite Anakin's earlier denial of their existence. Another buffet of explosives whizzed them, and as Anakin bobbed the _Falcon_ back and forth amongst them he felt the engines sputter and fire several times, and suddenly knew their time was running out. They had to be venting plasma, the engines finally starting give out after having only barely survived the obvious breach. It was only a matter of time before they failed. Anakin could only hope Han's pride in the _Falcon_ was justified – it was going to take a miracle to get them through this.

Anakin steeled himself, for a moment flashing back to pod-racing on the surface of Tatooine as a child, the same dark and dangerous excitement that had thrilled him then coursing through him now. He tapped a control on his board, watching the power indicators on his control board fill as everything not devoted to life support or weapons was rerouted to the engines with something that was not unlike anticipation. "We're only going to have one shot at this….ready…_now!"_

A series of sharp detonations deafened Anakin as he zig-zagged through the chain of defense towers at a breakneck speed, avoiding the towers themselves by only the narrowest of margins while trying to keep in close enough range for Chewbacca's continuing quad-laser pulses to destroy them.

The furious tempo of weapons fire was almost measured, telling Anakin the Wookiee's shots were hitting their targets with unerring accuracy. The tempo finally died as the last tower died in a fiery protest, Chewbacca's call of victory sounding far away against the ringing in his ears.

"We're clear," Leia said, the words ending in a sort of half-laugh of shocked relief. "Defense towers all seem to be disabled."

"Good." Despite how his head screamed at him, Anakin felt a tense sort of relief touch him as he guided the _Falcon_ into a wide, sweeping arc, heading towards the foot of the mountain once more. The ship was shuddering around them as if it was on the edge of simply shaking itself to pieces all around them. It _was_ going to be a bumpy landing, and with that though his eyes lighted on the _Falcon's_ increasingly fading captain in the seat beside him. Han's good hand was still on the controls in front of him but the fingers were slack against them, and he stared out the viewport with vacant eyes, his head starting to loll against his shoulder.

He needed medical attention _now._ "Leia, Han's going to need-"

"Anakin!"

There was no need to ask her what made her voice cry out in shocked horror. He already knew the answer. His fingers splayed out over the controls as that same shock sent a physical jolt through him, for a brief moment all thoughts but one simply abandoning him.

_The Force was gone._

"_Anakin look out!"_

It was a split second before he responded, but it was a second that he didn't have, and even as he tried to make the ships overtaxed engines pull out of the _Falcon's _nosedive he knew it wasn't going to be enough. They were going to crash, and absurdly the only thing Anakin could think of was that Han was _never_ going to let him live this down.

Then blackness.

**END OF PART 20**

I'm not entirely happy with it, but well, there it is...thoughts? Let me know what you think!

I'm posting this then immediately going to work on the next part...I didn't realize how long I'd gone without updating til I got several letters telling me it was one year from the last update. Seriously didn't think it'd been that long, but it has, and I said to myself, "Stop tinkering and POST IT ALREADY! You can always edit it later if you desperately hate it."

And since I have regular conversations with my own inner voice (whom I suspect sometimes is not me at all) I replied, "Okay, okay! But I'm not taking the blame if people hate it 'cause its poorly written!"

Yeah. I know. I'm arguing with myself and telling myself I'd blame myself instead of myself if it was bad. Don't ask.

So anyways, here it is in all its tattered glory, though I still admit to not being happy with it. But I have to ask, what you guys think!

As always, thanks for reading!


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